Night
by Irena K
Summary: A small town. An old evil. And Vash, Meryl, and Millie stuck in the middle. [Crossover - now Complete]
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: They belong to Nightow and Whedon. I worship. I grovel.

Feedback: Yes. God yes. Let's me know people are actually reading this, don't ya know. Constructive criticism is actively encouraged.

Author's notes: It's here. Finally. That Buffy/Trigun thing I mentioned a while back. Still a work in progress and if anyone wants to beta later chapters, I'd love it. Yes, this does take place somewhere in the same universe as 'Something Wicked' but you don't have to read that to read this and vice versa. And yes, this is a crossover, *not* a fusion. I know. I'm weird that way. But trust me. It'll all make sense in the end.

Dedication: To Vincent Price. Modern horror just wouldn't have been the same without him.

Timeline: Post Episode 13 but sometime before the Fifth Moon Incident. Spoilers for entire series.

Rated PG-13 for violence

NIGHT

_Part one_

"Would you hurry up?"

"Me? Look, I didn't ask you to follow me."

"Mr. Vash, I've explained to you multiple times that as agents of Bernardelli Insurance Society, we are required to keep your activities to the necessary minimum of damage-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard it. Jeez."

Vash the Stampede, the legendary outlaw with the 60,000,000,000 double dollar bounty on his head, trudged unhappily beside Millie Thompson and Meryl Strife, his appointed keepers from Bernardelli Insurance. It wasn't like he ever meant to cause the massive amount of destruction that he did. It was just that trouble seemed to follow him doggedly everywhere he went and sooner or later, property damage was the result. He never killed anyone, never permanently hurt anyone really; it was just…things seemed to happen to him.

And it drove Meryl absolutely crazy.

If he had been the crazed sociopath that his reputation claimed he was, she might've been happier with her situation. At least then she might have had some sort of predictability with her assignment. Instead, she was saddled with this goofball who would rather get himself killed – possibly along with the two insurance girls – than actually defend himself.

She wondered what sins she had committed in a past life to be punished like this.

Her partner, Millie, was blissfully unaware of her difficulties. The tall girl just smiled at Vash. "Don't worry about Meryl, Mister Vash. She's really very patient most of the time."

Vash glanced warily at the black-haired young woman studiously staring straight ahead. "Could've fooled me."

Meryl glared at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Did I ask your opinion?"

The outlaw just shrugged and lengthened his stride, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Hey, you're the one who keeps insisting you can't leave my side for a second." He sent a wolfish grin back at her. "Can I help it if you're so drawn to my natural good looks?"

She scowled at him as Millie laughed lightly. She turned to her partner. "What's got you so happy?"

"Nothing," Millie trilled, her grin unwavering. Meryl sighed and gave up. Millie was the more naïve of the two of them yet sometimes, Meryl had to wonder just how much the younger woman was actually oblivious to. For someone whose head was continuously up in the clouds, Millie seemed to be highly observant at times. At least enough to have some fun at her partner's expense.

They entered Salem Town early into their day, the suns not yet at their apex. The little town had an air of quiet depression to it, like somewhere along the way the inhabitants had simply given up. Even Vash, who could talk a mile a minute, seemed to have caught the subdued vibe and stayed quiet. 

The two girls followed him to a small saloon and boarding house halfway up the main street. The interior of the bar had the same level of hopelessness as the rest of the town. The local drunks – and there were quite a few of them – had obviously been in there for quite some time, slowly drinking themselves further into oblivion. Meryl tried not to let it get her too down – Vash generally liked the larger cities so chances were they'd only stay for the night to replenish supplies before leaving the next morning. For once, she was relived about his restlessness. She didn't think she could stay in this town for longer.

Vash put on a good front when he wanted to, though, and he had a friendly smile on his face when he approached the bartender. "So, any idea where I could rent a room for the night?"

The barman glared balefully from large, bloodshot eyes, taking him in as well as Meryl and Millie. "You want all three of you in a room? Together?"

There was a large, disapproving tone in his voice and the accusation wasn't lost on any of them. Vash blushed, Millie murmured, "Oh my," and Meryl gave him her usual scowl.

"We'll have separate rooms, thank you," she told him coldly.

The barman shrugged. "Seventy-five double dollars, up front. Hundred if you want a private bath. This gonna be separate bills?"

"Yes," Meryl answered at the same time Vash said, "No." She gave him a glare and he leaned over confidentially.

"I don't have enough."

She felt her mouth drop open. "What?"

"Remember that poker game?"

"Oh dear," Millie sighed. "Did you lose again?"

"Hey, now I can get the money back," he said hastily. "I just, y'know, need a small loan." He gave Meryl large, puppy-dog eyes. "Pleeeease? I'll be sooooo good. I promise I'll pay you back." He began to sniffle a little.

"Oh, Meryl," Millie chimed in. "It's just for one night."

"I don't believe this." She stared at the two of them. If anything, Vash's blue-green eyes only got wider. She finally threw her hands in the air in disgust. "Sure, fine, whatever. Put it on one bill."

The barman smirked. "Hundred double-dollars. Ma'am."

Meryl muttered something unladylike under her breath and shelled out the requested amount. Well, maybe the company would cover Vash's room as a business expense.

"Jonothan! Jonothan!" A matronly woman burst through the doors to the bar, apron flying as she ran to the bartender. He stepped forward to meet her.

"Nancy, what is it?"

"Oh it's horrid!" The older woman shuddered. "You must come. There's been another one!"

"God damn," Jonothan swore and followed her back out, the rest of the clientele trailing after them, leaving the three travelers trading bewildered looks with one another.

"Do you think they do this everyday?" Millie wondered aloud.

"I doubt it," Meryl murmured. "What's going on here?"

She glanced at Vash, who just shrugged. "Only one way to find out, right?"

"Mmm," she answered noncommittally but followed him out towards the source of the commotion.

It was tough keeping up with the tall man, but Meryl had no trouble seeing where he was headed. Near the outskirts of town, a large group of people had gathered, muttering excitedly over something on the ground. She couldn't see what it was, but she had a sinking feeling as to what it could be.

Vash reached the crowd first, stopping so suddenly the two girls nearly ran him over. When Meryl tried to squeeze past him, he suddenly turned and clamped his hands over her eyes, blocking out sight.

"Wha-?"

"Um, Mister Vash, what are you doing?"

"Nothing to see," Vash's voice announced a little too cheerfully. "Come on, let's go back and get something to eat. Aren't you hungry after all that traveling? I know I sure-"

"Vash," Meryl interrupted. "Let go of my head."

The hand was taken reluctantly away but he still kept his body in front of her view. His usual smile was gone, replaced by look of genuine concern. "You sure?"

Whatever it was, it was bad and he was trying to protect her from it. It was annoying and sweet at the same time. Meryl nodded. "I'm a big girl, Mr. Vash. Let me handle it."

He still looked unhappy but did as was asked and stepped aside. Meryl stepped forward to get a look into the center of the crowd, Millie hovering over her shoulder.

"Oh my," Millie murmured faintly, hand tightening on Meryl's shoulder.

The smaller woman wholeheartedly endorsed the sentiment.

A dead girl lay on the road, eyes open and staring glassily into space, limbs sprawled gracelessly beneath her. She was torn open, a jagged hole where her neck used to be, leaving her head to rest at a bizarre, unnatural angle. Meryl felt her stomach flip flop at the sight, what little breakfast she had threatening to come up.

"I think we should go now," Vash murmured behind them. He was pointedly not staring at the body.

Meryl nodded slowly. "I think you're right." She glanced at her pale partner. "Millie?"

The tall girl didn't answer immediately and when she finally blinked aware again, the turning of her head was sluggish, her words faint. "What?"

"Let's go, okay?" Meryl answered softly, guiding her partner away from the horrible scene. The three of them walked slowly back towards the hotel, none finding the strength to say anything. When they were maybe halfway back to the boarding house, Millie suddenly spoke up.

"I know this is a silly question," she said timidly. "But what happened to all the blood?"

Meryl and Vash stopped dead and traded one, long look. They both turned towards Millie.

"Actually," Meryl responded slowly. "I don't think that's a silly question at all."

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End part one


	2. 

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Part two

The three of them sat in a corner of the saloon. Millie had her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that she had yet to take a sip from. She just stared silently at the liquid, her eyes unfocused. Vash slumped down in a chair next to her, head leaned back, eyes tracing lines on the ceiling. Meryl wouldn't look at either of them, chin in her hand, fingers drumming a nervous staccato beat on the table. A buzzing distracted her and she watched a fly lazily circle above them.

A hand suddenly shot out and snapped the fly out of the air, halting the noise. Meryl blinked in wonder as Vash brought his closed fist up to his face.

"Stop that," he told his hand, then opened it. A dazed insect drunkenly took flight off his palm and wandered off to bother someone else.

Meryl decided that was just a little too surreal for her tastes.

"You shouldn't think about it," she said.

He raised his head and looked at her directly. "Think about what?"

"You know, the…*that. *" Meryl waved her hand towards the door, unable to bring herself to say what it really was.

"That what?" His expression was carefully blank, no hint given he had any idea what she was talking about.

She glowered at him, his innocent act grating on her frayed nerves. "Are you purposely this obtuse just to irritate me?"

He said nothing for another minute before giving her a sudden smile. "There. I was getting worried. You hadn't yelled at me for nearly a half hour."

She stared at him in astonishment before a small, answering smile touched her face. "Alright, I admit defeat. You win."

"Good. Hate to think I was losing my touch."

Meryl only shook her head. Completely aggravating. But he always knew how to bring a person out of a funk, no matter what. She had to admit, if only to herself, it was something she admired about him.

Vash turned his attention away from her to focus on Millie. He scooted his chair closer to her and tilted his head to the side, some stray blonde hairs falling into his eyes. "Hey, Millie?"

She roused herself slightly and blinked at him. "Yes?"

He latched two fingers onto either side of her nose. "Got your nose."

She crossed her wide blue eyes to stare at his hand. He continued to grin at her bewildered expression. "Um…may I have it back, please, Mister Vash?"

"But it's such a nice nose," he protested. "Very cute."

Her mouth twitched up almost despite itself. "Pretty please?"

"Alright," he sighed. "Since you asked nicely." He withdrew his hand and stood, only to flip his chair around and sit on it again, facing the back this time. "We ready to have a conversation?"

Meryl straightened up. "I think so."

"Good." He scratched his chin idly. "So, what're we gonna do about this death?" Meryl and Millie gave him twin blank looks. He stared back. "What?"

"Don't you think it would be better to let the authorities handle this?" Meryl suggested.

"What? We can't just sit back and do *nothing. *"

"Actually, Mister Vash," Millie spoke slowly. "I don't think there's anything we can do."

"We can catch the guy who did it," Vash countered.

"How?" Meryl demanded. "You suddenly turn into a detective while I wasn't looking?"

"No," he admitted but protested stubbornly. "But there has to be something we can do."

"Yes, you can let the sheriff's office do their job," Meryl sighed. "I know you don't like this-"

"You're right, I don't," he answered flatly, eyes narrowing slightly. "If the sheriff were so good, he wouldn't have let something like this happen again."

"Again?"

"He's right, Meryl," Millie spoke up. "The lady who ran in here said it happened before."

Meryl rubbed her eyes. Two against one now, great. "I'm sure they're doing everything they can-"

"No, they aren't!" Vash stood and slammed his fist down on the table, making both girls jump. He took a deep breath and composed himself. "Look, people are getting killed. If there's something I can do to stop it, then I'm gonna do it. And it's not your job to tell me that I shouldn't."

He turned and strode calmly out of the room, red coat flapping at his heels. Meryl and Millie traded bewildered looks with each other. Meryl felt the sudden urge to hug herself.

Completely aggravating. A nice sense of humor. And extremely dangerous.

She kept forgetting that last bit.

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End part two


	3. 

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Part three

Sheriff Henry Buck sighed as he sat heavily behind his desk. He had been the law in Salem Town for nearly twenty-five years now and the worst thing he had faced in that time was Ray Fulton getting stone drunk and attempting to hold up the local hardware store. Ray had managed to get out a slurred "Keep your hands where I can see 'em" before passing out cold. Buck threw him in the drunk tank for a week and then gave him back to the not-so-tender mercies of his extremely irate wife.

He was close to admitting he was out of his depth here.

First, Gertie Reynolds had been found in her home with her throat torn out. Then the disappearance had begun – Fanny Mayfield, Harrison Gray, Jimmy Hanson just two days ago. Not to mention the dead Weathers girl this morning. Her father had raised holy hell when he got the news of his youngest daughter's death, demanding to know what could have killed his baby girl.

Bruckman wished he had something to give him.

A knock on his office door startled him out of his brooding. "Who's there?"

A dark-haired young woman stuck her head inside. "Sheriff Buck?"

"Yes, that's me," he frowned as she walked up to him. She was petite, but held herself confidently, like she knew how to take care of herself. The large white coat she wore did little to flatter her figure but when she held out a hand to him he saw the glint of metal hidden within it.

"Sheriff, my name's Meryl Strife." She smiled politely. "I'm an agent from the Bernardelli Insurance Society, Main Office."

"Really." He raised an eyebrow as he engulfed her hand in his own. "What brings you out here, Ms. Strife?"

She sat in the visitor's chair across from him. "Actually, I was hoping you could assist me with a case that I've just received. Surely you've heard of Vash the Stampede?"

"The Humanoid Typhoon?" He rested his arms against his desk, his frown deepening. "Who hasn't? What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, unfortunately, due to the highly destructive and therefore expensive nature of his activities, Bernardelli believed it would be prudent to assign a few agents to track Mr. Vash down and minimize the extent of his property damage. We've been following his trail for a number of months now with little progress, but when we arrived here this morning we heard about the, ah, incidents recently. It's a possible lead."

"Hrmph," Buck grunted. "So you're saying Vash the Stampede has been through my town?"

She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Last we heard, he *was* heading this way."

"And you think these murders fit his typical MO."

"Well, not precisely," she admitted. "Though, according to rumor, some of his henchmen have, um, slightly more bizarre…hobbies."

"I see," the sheriff nodded slowly. "Should I tell you what I think, Ms. Strife?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

"I think I see the first stranger to enter my town in months sitting right in front of me. And I think, we haven't had any trouble in our town with the natives. But suddenly I have mysterious young women showing up on my doorstep inquiring all about the troubles here recently. So, Ms. Strife, if you were in my place, what exactly would you think?"

She clasped her hands in her lap and chuckled weakly. "I understand you concern, Sheriff, but I do know that the first murder was over two weeks ago. And, as I said, we only arrived here this morning. You can ask the boarding house up the street. They'll vouch for me."

"Hrmph." He stared at her, letting the silence stretch. To her credit, she showed little discomfort, meeting his look with serious violet eyes. He finally sighed and leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands in front of him.

"I'll tell you what, Ms. Strife, I'll provide you with the most recent information that's circulated the town, but I won't give you any privileged details about the investigation. That's the right of this law office. Do you understand?"

She released the tension in her shoulders and gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sheriff."

"And for my own private curiosity," he smirked. "Just how many agents are you?"

"Uh, three. Millie Thompson and V – Vincent Price are my partners."

"Really. Two girls and one man."

"Heh," she said. "Yeah. Go figure."

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End part three


	4. 

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Part four

Meryl rapped smartly on Vash's door, then waited politely for him to open it. When she was still waiting politely three minutes later, she banged the door hard enough to shake its hinges.

"Vash! Quit sulking and open the door!"

He finally responded and glowered at her. "I am not sulking."

"Yes, you are," she smirked. "Because you stormed off before you realized you have no clue how to track down a pattern killer."

He glared at her for another moment before his face broke and he whimpered pitifully. "I don't even know where to start."

He wandered back into his room and collapsed defeated into one of the chairs. He had shed his coat and gloves, but his six-shooter was still hung by his waist. She made a note of it as she closed the door behind her and took a seat across from him. "Then ask me how I do it."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "What?"

"The first murder took place two-and-a-half weeks ago. An elderly woman in her living room, no break-in, no sign of a struggle. Which meant she probably knew who her attacker was. Second murder was one week ago, body found on one of the farms, again, little struggle. Same thing with the girl this morning. All attacks took place at night, they think shortly after sunset. Plus, there are at least five missing persons, all within the last month, all unaccounted for." She crossed her arms and waited for his reaction. She wasn't disappointed. 

He blinked wonderingly at her. "How do you do it?"

"By going directly to the source," she shrugged. "I talked to the sheriff."

"What happened to just standing back and letting them do their job?"

She blushed. "Well, you know, there were people…and they were getting…dead…"

He grinned triumphantly. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"Don't get too cocky," she frowned, immediately snapping back to pure business. "I just knew you'd still be running around like a chicken with its head cut off if I didn't do something."

"Sure."

"It's true."

"I'm not disagreeing, am I?"

She scowled. "Even when you're admitting I'm right, you're still annoying."

"I'll take your word for it."

She just shook her head and stretched her arms above her head. "Anyway, there has to be a plan here, right?"

"Sure, I'll patrol around town this evening, you'll stay inside and not invite anyone in."

She blinked. "I don't think that's a very good plan."

"It's workable," he shrugged. "Unless you have a better one."

Meryl opened her mouth to tell him that yes, she most definitely did, then realized that she actually didn't. She sighed and pouted. "No, not at the moment."

"Okay, so we're sticking with my idea."

"Right, great." She was going to get a massive headache over this she just knew it. She rose to leave. "But if you get killed, don't even think I'm coming to your funeral."

"Then I guess I won't get killed." His smirk was incorrigible and Meryl scowled most of the way back to the door. Her hand was on the handle when he spoke again. "Meryl?"

She turned back and saw his eyes were serious. "Yes?"

"Thanks." This time his smile was soft, almost shy, not at all like his normal goofy grin. Meryl felt her heart melt a little at the sight.

"You're welcome."

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End part four


	5. 

Note: Sorry for the update delay. I was on vacation and computer-less. Just remember, feedback is a girl's best friend.

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Part five

Salem Town at night was pretty much like Salem Town during the day – dead and depressing.

Vash pulled his coat a little tighter as he walked through the shadows of the quiet town. Though the day could get unbearably hot, the temperature in the desert significantly dropped at night. But for some reason, the chill here made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. There was an unnaturalness about this place, a irrational feeling that told him there was something dark and deadly here.

He was always hesitant to put a label on anything but the only word he could come up with was…evil.

There was evil here.

He was fairly certain it wasn't _him_. The man with no name, the one who was in July with him twenty-three years ago. The man's identity continued to elude his spotty memory, slipping through his grasp every time he reached for it. He had given up trying so hard for it some time ago, certain he would eventually find the other man again and regain his lost past.

Well, maybe his mind didn't remember that night very well, but his gut told him this was familiar territory. Not the man with no name, no, but something equal in severity. He just didn't know what.

He slouched closer to one of the buildings, trying to squeeze his tall, lanky frame into deeper shadows. A pair of locals stumbled by, hung over each other and laughing too loudly to be sober. Whiskey bottles that were mostly empty were still clutched in their hands, the occasional streetlight glinting off the glass. One told a slurred, incomprehensible joke that Vash couldn't understand, but his companion cawed loudly and slapped the first man on the back. Neither gave any indication they saw the outlaw observing them.

Vash took an eight-count breath and let it out slowly before he stepped forward again. No point in pushing his luck and have someone recognize him. This town had enough problems without some bounty hunter trying to catch him and tearing up the place in the process.

A flash of silver caught his eye. Looking up, he spied a small piece of metal catching moonlight on a roof across the street. He nearly dismissed it as unimportant until it moved, making a line for the edge of the building.

Someone was up there.

Glancing cautiously down the road, he hurried across the street and eased back into the shadows between the buildings. Craning his neck around the corner, he was able to catch a glimpse of the metal making a leap to the next building. He looked warily at the wall immediately in front of him. There were packing crates beside it that were probably heavy enough to support his weight. From there, he should be able to get onto the roof.

Provided he didn't break his neck in the attempt.

As quietly as possible, he scrambled on top of the pile, wobbling slightly as the wood swayed beneath him. But the boards held and he got enough height to pull himself painfully on top of the building. He lay panting only a moment before getting to his feet and taking in his surroundings. It wasn't the tallest structure in town but it gave him a good bird's-eye view of the surrounding area. He squinted into the black, trying to find whatever he had seen before.

There. It was maybe a story below him, two buildings away. He could just make out a small figure in the dim lighting. He gauged the distance between himself and the next roof over. Not very close, but not far enough to be impossible. He took a steadying breath, then ran, leaping just before his steps would have taken him into thin air. He landed heavily, shock running through his legs on impact. The pain was passing though, and he readied himself for his next jump. When he got to his target, the pain was a little less than before, his legs steadier. Nice to see one could get used to leaping rooftops.

Unfortunately, when he looked up, his quarry was nowhere to be seen, the slip of silver vanished. He walked forward to other edge of the building and looked over. No sign of anyone. Confused and frowning, he was about to turn around when something jabbed him in the back.

"Why are you following me?" It came from behind him, a woman's voice, a light soprano.

"Who said I was following you?" Well, it was true. Up until that point, he hadn't even realized it was a woman he had been looking at.

The jab got harder, more insistent. Oddly enough, it didn't feel like a gun barrel. "I don't like being played with."

"I don't play games," he answered softly. "Who are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said snidely. "But since I have the weapon, I get to ask the questions. Who are you?"

"Just a concerned citizen, that's all." It didn't seem like she would be very rational about this, but he could always try to talk his way out.

"Concerned citizens don't wander around on rooftops at night. Not in this town." Okay, she had him there. "Now, answer my question before this gets ugly."

Definitely wasn't going to be rational. Plan B, then.

He dropped to the ground fluidly, halting just before he hit. His left leg shot out and back, hitting her legs and sweeping them out from under her. As she fell onto her back, he rolled to the side, hand hovering just above his six-shooter as he came up. He didn't want to use it, but at this point it was probably better to have a weapon in his hand just in case.

By the time he turned back to face her, she was already on her feet. Her hand whipped out and she hurled something at him. He didn't even think about it as it happened, body reacting completely on instinct. He snatched the object out of mid-air, stopping it just before it hit his heart. He blinked down in surprise at what now lay in his hand.

A thick stick sharpened to a fine point.

"That speed's inhuman."

He looked back at his opponent and felt his jaw go slack. It wasn't a woman. It was a girl, no more than sixteen or seventeen. She was short, maybe as short as Meryl, with dirty blonde hair cut in a bob and large brown eyes. She wore a man's shirt and pants held up with suspenders, a pair of worn brown boots beneath them. The piece of metal he had noticed earlier came from a silver cross that hung down to the center of her chest. Another wooden stake was already in her hand, body in a fighting stance.

He blinked. "You're a girl."

Her eyes narrowed. She was pretty but there were lines already hardening her face. "And you're a man. We have the facts of life down. Hooray for us."

"No, you're a…" He held his hand flat, not high off the ground. "…girl."

"You're holding my shortness against me?" She looked a little insulted, then shook her head, the glower returning. "No, okay, we are not having a conversation. We're having a fight."

She attacked him with a quick roundhouse kick, moving almost too fast to track. He was able to dodge but she came at him again with a hook that clipped his eye and nearly left him sprawled on the ground. Whoever she was, she was strong, impossibly so. He just wove and ducked, trying to avoid getting hit by the girl, still unsure whether he really wanted to hit back. It wasn't really part of his code of conduct to hit little girls. Even if said little girls were trying to kill him.

"Can we talk this out?" he asked stiffly while jumping back from another jab. "Uh, please?"

"Why?" she huffed, coming close to breaking his nose in a one-two combination. "The monsters suddenly think we're a social club now?"

His hand was suddenly out and wrapped around her fist, halting her forward momentum dead. He felt the jar up his arm at the power of the attempted blow and the pull to free the hand was equally as strong, but he held himself steady.

"Why are you calling me a monster?" he asked softly.

She stopped struggling and stared at him, meeting his eyes directly. She searched his face, her thoughts hidden as she looked through him for something he could only guess at. She appeared ready to say something when they were interrupted.

"Hey! What're you doing up there?"

They both turned to catch sight of a man staring up from the street. He was already calling an alarm as they watched. Vash's grip slackened slightly and the girl tore from his grasp, backflipping out of reach. She met his eyes briefly as she straightened.

She smirked. "Guess we'll have to do this again some other time."

She turned and raced for the edge, leaping off and landing easily on a neighboring rooftop, barely stopping before she was running again. A moment later, she had vanished into the dark. Vash melted back into the shadows and found his way to the back streets, avoiding the main square and the growing search party.

"Do this again, sometime," he murmured to himself. "Yeah, right."

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End part five


	6. 

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Part six

If you had asked Meryl if she was worried, she would have flat-out denied it. Millie had, in fact, asked several times, and still got the same outraged answer every time: no, of course not, she wasn't worried about that big overgrown jerk. Quit asking.

Millie knew her partner doth protested too much but was too polite to point it out.

Meryl just tried to convince herself that the real reason she couldn't sleep was she had a great deal of paperwork she needed to catch up on. It had absolutely nothing to do with Vash the Stampede being out in the middle of the night, looking for something that might well have been able to kill even him.

And it was only curiosity that made her knock on his door when she heard him come back in. "Vash, it's me."

"Come in."

She stuck her head inside. "Find anything?"

He frowned as she closed the door behind her, fingers carefully unbuttoning his coat. "Uh…I'm not sure."

She sighed as she sat at one of the small, breakfast chairs, noticing his face seemed a little swollen. Another fight? "I told you it wasn't a very good plan."

"No, but…" he trailed off, a faraway look on his face. He stared into space so long, Meryl wondered if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

"But?"

"Huh? Oh." His cheeks colored slightly. "But I dunno. There was a weird girl out there tonight."

"Define weird."

"Young, blonde. A teenager. Pretty, though."

"So we've established you'd like to cradle rob her. And?" Honestly, he just never got to the important stuff.

"Uh, well," he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a shaft of wood. He handed it to her and she studied it curiously. "She was carrying this around."

"Just randomly?"

"No, she threw it at me."

"Threw it?"

"Yeah." He mimed the movement, making it look like a knife throw. "I think she wanted to kill me."

"Half the population on this planet wants to kill you," Meryl rolled her eyes. "But why would she use a stick to do it?"

"I don't know."

"Then why was she fighting you in the first place?"

"I don't know." There was a slight hesitation before he answered; he thought he knew but didn't want to tell her. More secrets that she needed a lot more time and a lot more sleep to wrangle out of him. She let it slide for now.

"Do you think she killed all those people?"

This time it was a genuine pause, his eyes going distant as he thought about the question. "I don't think so. She was…I don't know."

Meryl sighed and rubbed tired eyes. "You don't know an awful lot, do you?"

"She was young," he repeated. "She was…too young. She shouldn't be fighting now." His eyes were going distant again.

"O-kaaay," she nodded. "I don't think we're going to get much further right now."

He blinked. "What?"

"Right, I'm going to bed," she announced brusquely. "You're going to bed. We'll try again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, sure."

"Right, good night." She marched to the door.

"Good night." It was soft, distant. He was already falling asleep. She stepped quietly into the hall and shut the door behind her.

It was only as she was climbing into bed, Millie snoring softly across the room, that she realized she hadn't even asked if he had been all right.

Conflicting emotions troubling her, she didn't fall asleep for quite some time.

__

End part six


	7. 

__

Part seven

Meryl had several problems in her life but disorganization was not one of them. She was already down in the saloon before nine, working on her second cup of coffee and scribbling notes on a legal pad. Her erstwhile partner was still taking a shower and she hadn't heard a single noise escape from Vash's room all morning, so she presumed he was still dead to the world.

She first made a rough map of the town, marking the areas where each of the victims had been found, then wrote out a quick report summing up the case thus far. Hardly necessary for her work at Bernardelli, but it helped get her thoughts straightened out. Unfortunately, she didn't have much to write about – without any witnesses, it was mostly assumptions and hypotheses. All the victims were found with their throats ripped, showing little or no signs of struggle. All were killed at night. Both of those facts told her very little. The only significant detail so far was the missing blood; she was hardly an expert but she was pretty sure if you got your throat cut there was usually a really big mess afterwards. But thus far, the corpses had had few bloodstains surrounding them. Which meant they had been killed, then moved to a different location or…

Or the killer had taken the blood.

Meryl shuddered. She didn't really want to think about that but she diligently included it in her notes anyway. Followed by a list of suspects which really only consisted of one person: Vash's mysterious blonde. Vash hadn't seemed to think she was actually their killer and Meryl was inclined to agree with him; personal objections aside, she couldn't deny he was a good judge of character. Still, the attack-first-and-ask-questions-later introduction made her a little wary. Not to mention the girl's bizarre choice in personal protection.

Who the hell carried around a sharpened stick in their pocket?

She chewed on the end of her pen and skimmed back over what she'd just written. Almost as an afterthought, she scribbled in the margin _Relation to Monev the Gale?_

Well, one could never tell.

She frowned over the woefully small list of evidence in front of her. She wished her father was there – he had been a lawman back home for years. Hell, he had even faced a pattern killer himself. It had taken a special task force made up of three county sheriff's offices to finally catch their man. Her father rarely spoke about the incident and she suspected he would like nothing better than to forget that the entire event had ever happened. But at least he knew what he was doing in these cases. She had a few ideas, and after spending three months on Vash's trail, she had developed some skill as a detective. But for the most part, she was still playing this by ear. She didn't have the correct background to perform a more effective investigation.

Why couldn't she have just taken her own advice and stayed away from the entire situation?

"Good morning, Mister Vash!"

"Morning! Your partner around?"

"Yep! She's down here for breakfast."

Ah yes. Her fellow investigators. No wonder they weren't getting anywhere.

Millie sat down next to her, her own coffee already in hand. Vash slid in across from them, munching happily on a donut. For some reason, he was wearing his sunglasses indoors. Meryl raised an eyebrow. "Too bright in here for you?"

"Nope, they're a fashion statement," Vash grinned around his food and took another bite of donut.

"Really?" Millie wondered, sounding a little confused. "I thought it was because of that big bruise, Mister Vash."

"Bruise?" Meryl blinked at the outlaw. His smile dimmed a little and he ducked his head.

"It's nothing, really. Besides," he perked up. "I think they make me look kind of cool." When that failed to get smile out of her, he sighed and removed them, revealing one colorful black eye.

Meryl hissed out her next breath. "Ouch. Was that the girl from last night?"

"What girl from last night?" Millie asked. She turned to Vash. "You got beat up by a girl?"

"No!" he protested, then added sheepishly. "Well, she wasn't an ordinary girl. She was a super-girl!"

Meryl rolled her eyes. "I'm sure. What else does she do, catch bullets in her teeth?"

Vash grunted and popped his glasses back on, stuffing the rest of the donut in his mouth and slumping down sulkily in his seat. Meryl sighed and looked over her legal pad again. "Well, I've got all the information we have. Which is almost nothing, but at least we have something to start with."

Millie leaned over her shoulder. "Wow. You have really neat writing."

"Uh, gee, thanks, Millie."

"You're welcome," the girl smiled and continued to scan the page. "Huh."

"What?"

"Oh, it's probably nothing," Millie shook her head and laughed lightly. "I'm being silly."

"Millie, at this point, I'm ready to try any ideas."

"We-ell, promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"You too, Mister Vash."

The outlaw solemnly raised his left hand and placed his right over his heart. "I swear not to laugh."

"Okay," Millie took a large breath. "When we were little, my big brother – my *big* big brother, not my little big brother – well, he used to tell scary stories to us at night. And when Meryl wrote everything down, it sounded just like a vampire story he made up."

"Vampire?" Vash blinked.

"Sure, you know, like Dracula," she raised her hands, hooking them like claws. "Grr."

Meryl stared down at the paper in her hand. Slowly, she began underling certain phrases and muttering to herself. "Oh my god. That actually makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Vash still looked lost.

"All the old myths," Meryl explained. "The girl you were fighting, was there anything else about her you remember? Anything that stood out?"

He frowned as he thought about it. "Well, she was wearing a cross, silver. Actually, that was how I noticed her, when the streetlight caught the metal."

"Right, fits the pattern. Crosses were traditionally used to ward off the undead," Meryl nodded. "Wow. This guy is definitely bad news."

"We're chasing a vampire?"

"Oh, please." She waved her hand dismissively. "That's all stories, stuff left over from Earth. But it's possible our killer *thinks* he's a vampire. It would fit that type of mentality – blood, death, power, and who doesn't want to live forever? Even if only in infamy."

"I wouldn't." Vash answered softly. She frowned briefly at him. The July incident had happened twenty-three years ago and she'd always wondered why he looked so young…but she immediately rejected the idea. While July had been attributed to him, it was obvious he wasn't old enough to have destroyed the town. She was starting to suspect Vash the Stampede was less a man and more a title – easier to take the name of an established outlaw than try to make one for yourself. Of course, why the mostly sweet-tempered man in front of her would've inherited such a name was beyond her.

Besides, it wasn't like she had seen him suddenly sprout fangs or turn into a bat. And Vash was a bona-fide sun-worshipper. She was being ridiculous.

She was spared further ruminations on the subject by the arrival of Sheriff Buck. She hoped he was there for something other than her small group, but, no, he headed right for their table. She sighed – she just knew this was somehow all Vash's fault without even having to ask. She had never had any trouble with the law before meeting him.

Buck sauntered up, hand relaxed against the butt of his gun. It wasn't a threat, but it was a promise to end trouble quickly if they caused it. "Morning, Ms. Strife."

"Good morning, Sheriff," she nodded. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Well, there was an incident last night," he drawled. "Seems there was some scuffling on the rooftops. Tall man and a short girl. You or your partners here wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Vash and Millie opened their mouths at the same time and Meryl kicked them both swiftly under the table. Millie couldn't help a small yelp but Vash kept silent. While Buck glared suspiciously at her partner out of the corner of his eye, Meryl just smiled pleasantly. "No. Why would we?"

"Let's just say some of you seem to be matching the descriptions of our suspects," Buck answered evenly. "And I think my views on outsiders have already been made clear to you."

"Well, I was in my room all night doing paperwork. Millie was with me." She indicated the taller girl. This was all true. "And I can assure you, Mr. Price here would *never* pick a fight with a girl." This was also true. Another kick under the table kept Vash from even opening his mouth this time.

"Guess I'll just have to take your word for it. For now." The sheriff did not look happy. His eyes drifted towards Vash, who simply stared blankly back from behind his yellow sunglasses. "Mr. Price, we ever meet before?"

Vash tilted his head to the side, as if thinking long and hard about it. "Don't reckon I've ever been by this way before. I would've remembered a nice, little town like this."

The two girls nearly fell off their chairs. The change from serious outlaw to good ol' boy was subtle, but Vash had slipped into his role with surprising ease, hitting the correct drawl perfectly. While Meryl gaped, the sheriff seemed more at ease. "Sorry, son. You look familiar, is all."

"S'okay." Vash shrugged. "I get that a lot. Must have one of those faces." He had his relaxed, goofy grin on, all laid-back charm and easy-going nature. He leaned his chair back a bit on its hind legs to emphasize the effect. Even Meryl, who had been following him for months now, was finding it hard to believe there were sixty billion double-dollars on his head.

Well, actually, she had trouble believing that anyway.

"Guess so," Buck agreed. "You folks stay low now, though. I don't need anymore trouble here, we clear?"

"Crystal, Sheriff." Meryl nodded solemnly.

"Alright, you have a good day." He touched the brim of his hat and tilted his head towards them. "Ma'ams, sir."

As Buck left, Meryl tried to release the tension in her shoulders with little luck. She threw a look at Vash and gave him another kick.

"Ow! Why do you keep kicking me?" he whimpered, his previous façade vanished.

"What was going on with the 'I'm jus' one of the boys' act?" she demanded.

"You were the one who said to play it safe," he grumbled, rubbing his bruised shins. "Besides, why am I suddenly Mr. Price?"

"Well, I couldn't exactly say Vash the Stampede was in town during a manhunt, could I?" she pointed out. "The sheriff thinks you're Vincent Price from Bernardelli. I hope to keep it that way."

"Vincent?" He frowned. "I don't look like a Vincent."

"What difference does that make?"

"Well, jeez, if suddenly I have to go around with an alias shouldn't I at least get some say in what it is?"

"Look, it was just the first name that came to mind, alright? You were sulking at the time."

"I do *not* sulk!"

"So what do you call holing yourself up in your room for hours on end?"

"I prefer to think of it as brooding."

"Oh please."

Millie watched the volley of words fly back and forth between the two of them, hiding her smile behind her coffee cup. It was always funny to see Mister Vash and Meryl argue like this when it was so obvious – to her at least – how much they liked each other. Well, it wasn't really her place to interfere in people's lives, so she chose to keep silent during their verbal battles. She was sure they'd figure things out eventually.

But she hoped they would finish berating each other soon.

They certainly had a lot of work to do today.

__

End part seven


	8. 

__

Part eight

Meryl took a long, satisfying swallow from her canteen, eyes squinted against the setting suns. Desert stretched out as far as she could see, little interrupting the uniform sterility of the landscape. She became acutely aware of the ache in her feet and legs, her cape hanging heavy on her shoulders. All she wanted was to go back to the room, take a long, relaxed bubble bath and forget all about bizarre murders and pacifist gunmen.

The day was spent in a futile search for Vash's mystery girl, their first and only lead. They checked boarding houses, saloons, and finally started going from door to door, asking anyone if they had spotted a young blonde woman with a silver cross. Every time the same answer: never saw anyone like her.

It didn't help that they had to avoid the sheriff either. Vash had thrown Buck off their immediate trail for the moment, but Meryl had been around the outlaw long enough to know their luck wasn't going to last much longer, especially with the amount of questions they were asking.

In a fit of frustrated inspiration, she dragged Millie and Vash on a tour of the crime scenes, hoping that there may be some evidence they had missed, anything to point them in the right direction. But the desert had already begun encroaching up on the town again, erasing any sign that a dead girl had been found there only yesterday morning.

God, had it really only been two days?

Meryl grunted and kicked at a rock. "Nothing."

"We should probably head back," Vash suggested, eyes drifting towards the horizon. "It's almost nightfall."

"I know, I know," Meryl sighed. "It's just – I hoped there would be _something_ here. Maybe we should head out to the farmsteads. They could know something…"

"Fine. Tomorrow," he nodded. He was usually quite good at hiding his anxiety but something out here was making him nervous. She sighed and followed him as he started back toward town, taking one last lingering look out to the desert.

Wait a second…

She stopped and stared. Her companions paused, noticing her distraction.

"Meryl?" Millie frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Millie, what do you see?"

The younger woman blinked, looking back in the direction Meryl was facing. "Um, nothing. Should I see something?"

"No. That's the problem."

She jogged out again past the town gates, ignoring the protests coming from Vash. She stopped about a dozen yarz away and took a long, careful look at her surroundings. The girl had been returning from one of the farms when she was murdered. But operating on her previous hypothesis, she couldn't have been killed there without leaving bloodstains. Which meant her murderer had ambushed her out here.

Yet there wasn't anything here, no where to hide, no where to stash the body before dropping it off in town for the horrified populace to discover the next morning.

"So where the hell did he come from?" she muttered to herself, never noticing the suns as they finally slipped below the horizon, the last of their direct light vanishing.

Something grabbed her leg and she felt herself fall.

__

End part eight


	9. 

__

Part nine

Vash tried to keep his agitation in check as Meryl searched the crime scene but the closer to sunset it grew, the more his nerves jangled. He made no effort to hide his relief when Meryl agreed to retire for the evening.

"Millie, what do you see?"

"Um, nothing. Should I see something?"

Oh no. He stared as Meryl made an abrupt U-turn and headed back out towards the desert again.

This was bad.

"Meryl! Wait!"

No use. The insurance woman was caught in her own thoughts, intent on whatever new piece of the mystery she had stumbled upon. He glanced at Millie and she only gave him a helpless shrug in return. In silent unison they followed Meryl again. Shortly before they reached her, instincts that had been on edge for some time suddenly started to scream at him as the suns finally vanished.

Something burst from the ground underneath Meryl and she let out a terrified shriek.

His gun was in his hand without conscious thought. He slid along the ground, catching the dark-haired girl as she slipped, yanking her away from whatever had gotten hold of her leg and taking aim with the Colt.

A hand waved at him from the dusty earth. Even as his jaw dropped, another arm appeared and joined the first, clawing, reaching through the layers of dirt and sediment, freeing whoever lay beneath them. Vash took an involuntary step back and bumped into someone. He nearly took their head off until he saw it was Millie, her face pale and drawn. Meryl stayed close to his side, two derringers out and ready though her hands trembled slightly.

Another disturbance drew their attention and they spied yet another set of hands bursting from the earth. All around, things were struggling out of the ground, moving with tremendous strength and surprising speed. They resolved themselves into human shapes, leaping to their feet with supernatural grace and startling the trio into a tighter unit. But it was their faces that made Vash's blood run cold.

Foreheads ridged unnaturally, teeth elongated to fine, sharp points and yellow eyes that bespoke of a hungry, predatory nature.

The rational part of his mind tried to assign some term to these which seemed human but weren't. He ran through his extensive knowledge of disease and genetic disfigurement but could find no description that matched what he saw before him.

__

You know what they are something deep and primal whispered within him, but he couldn't accept that. It was…no. Unthinkable.

The strange people circled his group. There were only ten of them and under normal circumstance he was sure he could overcome them. But again that primal instinct spoke up, telling him nothing would be so simple this time around.

"Well, well, well." One of the men drawled and it took everything Vash had not to jump out of his skin at the sudden noise. Some part of him had expected them to be unable to speak. "Looks like room service."

The chuckle rippled through the crowd and Vash felt Meryl stiffen as he frowned. The sudden appearance of the…things, the icy dread, the sudden joke. And a bad joke at that. It was like he was playing a game with rules no one had bothered to explain to him.

"I like the blonde one," a woman in a tattered silk dress spoke, running her tongue over her teeth. "He looks yummy."

"I saw him first!" another woman growled. The two glared at each other, anger and hate sparking between them.

"Now, now, plenty to go around," the original man chuckled and then threw a glance at Meryl. "Well, except maybe for that one. She's a bit scrawny."

That was enough to snap the insurance woman out of her stupefied silence. She nearly vibrated with anger as she brought her derringers to bear on the man. "Where the hell do you get off?"

Vash swallowed. Not good. The man, for his part, seemed more amused than anything else. "Planning on using those on me?"

"If necessary." Her aim was dead-on and Vash had no doubt she'd hit her target at this distance. But her temper would only make her sloppy after that and he had the very distinct feeling that none of them could afford carelessness now. Millie shifted closer to her partner as Vash reached out to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Meryl-"

"Stay out of this, Vash."

"Vash?" The man blinked and a murmur went through the yellow-eyed group.

Meryl winced as Vash glared at her. "Damn it. Sorry."

The spokesman brought his hand up to silence his fellows as an entirely unpleasant smile spread across his face, further exposing his fangs. "The legendary gunman? Here? I'm flattered."

"Think we can get the reward money?" Another one who might have been a teenager asked.

"Don't know," the leader shrugged and was suddenly in Vash's face, hands wrapped around the lapels of his red coat. "Let's see how much is left when we're done."

Vash found the world tilting disconcertingly as he was lifted off his feet and flipped over, a heavy weight settling on top of him and nothing but teeth filling his view. His hand still had a tight hold on his gun but at this range he'd blow a hole the size of his fist through the other man.

__

Do it the primal urge spoke again but his mind raged against it even as the fangs descended towards his throat. His indecision may well have gotten his throat torn out if the distinctive cock of Millie's Gatling gun hadn't filled the air a split second before a baton hit the yellow-eyed man and threw him away. Vash wasted no time leaping to his feet, the scent of gun-smoke filling the air as Meryl picked off targets. Her aim was good but it would take too long to retrieve her derringers and Vash now knew speed was of the essence. These 'people' were just too damn quick.

He shot the legs out from under the three most immediately in front of them, grabbed an arm from each insurance girl, and hauled them through the new opening. Then they were simply running as far and fast as they could.

"What was *that?* " Meryl panted. Vash just shook his head – breath was for running now. He spared a glance behind him and felt his heart skip a beat as he saw those he shot already rising to their feet. Swaying and lurching maybe, but following their comrades nevertheless. He took aim again, hissing as the barrel shook. Bad angle, moving targets, lousy shooting. He pulled the trigger three times – two shots hit true and the last went wild. Not his normal precision, but difficult to fix while running away, chilling fear gripping him, making his heart pound and skewing his instincts. He couldn't place where the panic came from but distantly wondered what exactly was wrong with him even as it became a driving mantra in his head: _just run, just run, just run…_

"Mister Vash! Wh-where're we going?"

Millie's voice broke through the haze and forced him to focus. They couldn't keep running forever. They needed some place to regroup, make a plan. Could go back to town but that'd just lead their pursuers towards innocent civilians. No, they needed to take them away, but where to go? No farmsteads nearby and he didn't think any of them could keep up this breakneck speed to reach one of them.

A lump standing out against the horizon caught the corner of his eye. He swung around, keen eyes detecting a barn-shaped building in the fading light.

"There!" He pointed towards it.

"What?" Meryl slowed slightly to question him. "What are you-?"

"No!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward again. "Less talk, more running."

Under normal circumstances, she would've argued with his brusque manner, but now she just gave him a wide-eyed nod and kept moving. Millie didn't even speak as she put on another burst of speed, long brown hair flying out in a fan behind her, stungun never slowing her down.

Vash looked back again and nearly tripped over himself when he saw how close their hunters had gotten. He used his last three bullets, hitting all he intended to, and barely paused to grab another round from his pocket and re-load. Six more shots and now their pursuers were down to three. Even as he prepared another clip, he saw the wounded nine were already stirring.

Bullets barely fazed them. What malady could they have that let them ignore that pain? And how could he possibly stop them without killing them?

__

You know how the dark whisper came once more and through sheer will, he continued to ignore it. He didn't have time to weigh its importance now anyway as eyes shifted forward again and the barn loomed ahead. They were so close, if only he could buy them a little more time…

Another round loaded and he hit the remaining three, praying he wouldn't need the last clip because after he was out of bullets he had no clue how they'd manage to escape.

__

Yes you do

__

Shut up! he snarled silently back.

And then finally, suddenly, they were there. He grasped the door handle, only to have yanked out of his hand and pulled open. He found himself face to face with the blonde girl from last night, a bizarre weapon trained directly at his heart.

Was that a – crossbow?

"Duck," she told him.

He dropped instinctively, hearing the twang of the bow's release followed by a dull roar. Then someone grabbed the collar of his coat and dragged him inside. The door slammed shut.

Before he could even think of rising, the girl pinned him to the floor, another sharpened stake pressed against his heart.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed.

He saw peripheral movement and Meryl's derringer was suddenly pressed against the girl's temple. "Let him go."

The two women exchanged an even glare over the course of a heartbeat until a muffled, male voice spoke up from the back. "Stand down, Lex."

The blonde looked towards the speaker. "But-"

"Do it, Alexis!" the man ordered. "We don't have time for this."

The girl frowned at Vash. He did his best to remain calm, complacent, and she sullenly released him.

"Good." The outlaw finally caught a glimpse of the girl's companion, a tall, broad-shouldered man covered from head to foot. Even his face was hidden, wrapped up in a scarf and black goggles, sheltered by a wide-brimmed hat. "Let's go."

"Wait just a second," Meryl snapped. "Who the hell are you?"

"Introductions can be made later," the stranger told her. "Right now, you've got two choices – come with us or face those things out there."

Meryl practically bristled but Millie stepped forward with calm acceptance. "Okay, where do we go?"

"Pick-up truck in the back."

Millie nodded and dragged her still protesting partner in the direction he indicated. The covered man turned to Vash.

"You know how to use that gun of yours?" The dazed outlaw nodded. "Good. You'll be in the back with me and Alexis." The girl – Alexis – opened her mouth but one look from her companion closed it again.

The barn suddenly shook as pounding began on the door outside. The stranger grabbed Vash and hauled him to his feet. "Enough rest. Move."

Vash quickly followed him, even as he heard the wood splintering behind them. They rounded a corner into an old stall housing a well-used pick-up truck, the engine idling. Meryl sat stone-faced in the driver's seat, Millie anxiously chewing on her nails next to her. As Vash and Alexis clamored into the bed, the covered man paused by Meryl to instruct, "Once we get out of here, head due south."

The insurance agent nodded grimly and the man joined the two blondes in the back. He knocked on the roof. "Go!"

Meryl gunned the engine and the truck leapt forward. Vash gritted his teeth and tried to keep his balance as the pick-up careened through the barn, heading towards the front and the crowd that awaited them there. The yellow-eyed people howled, animalistic and rage-filled, rousing the bone-chilling fear in Vash once again. Their hunters tried to grab the sides of the vehicle as it passed, reaching out for the passengers, clawing their way onto the bed. Most were unable to keep their grip and tumbled off. Four, through impossible effort, managed to stay on, climbing up and over.

Vash desperately wanted to do something, anything, to keep the human-shaped horrors away. But the dark whispers were keeping him still, mixing with a sick terror.

__

You know this. Kill them

Which, of course, was unacceptable, even as his flight-or-fight instinct howled at him.

He watched numbly as Alexis easily dispatched two of their attackers. She viciously kicked one in the face just as he appeared over the side and stabbed another in the chest with her stake before throwing it off and back into the night.

The covered man faced off against a female, both balancing with preternatural grace. He opened his coat and drew out a full Spanish sword, an anachronistic weapon that somehow didn't appear out of place in his skilled hands. Vash watched with fascinated horror as the stranger wielded the weapon, attacking with quick, deadly blows. The woman danced back, attention diverted away from the chaos surrounding her and focused on the enemy ahead.

The outlaw could've stood there all night, fear, instinctive demands, and the need to protect life at all costs keeping him firmly in place. But then someone grabbed him from behind. He heard Millie cry out as he fell, automatically angling his body to land sideways and, hopefully, on the truck rather than over and onto the ground. He hit the metal badly, the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled for air, another body landed on top of him and for the second time that evening he found yellow eyes and fangs all too close to his face and neck. He struggled under the weight, elbow rising up and out, connecting with something solid. The man snarled and Vash managed to shift up a bit. His attacker hung onto him tenaciously though and Vash had to hit him with his artificial hand, the metal fist connecting solidly with his attacker's jaw and loosening his hold long enough for Vash to scramble away. He rose to his feet to face his enemy when the man suddenly jerked back.

He traded one astonished look with the outlaw before performing the most incredible feat Vash had seen all evening and crumbling into dust.

Vash blinked at Alexis as she appeared out of the ash, stake flipped confidently back into a holder at her side. She glowered at him. "Keep freezing like that, you're gonna get yourself killed."

"What happened to him?" His voice was nearly unrecognizable, hoarse and trembling. Her expression never changed.

"Sent him back where he came from."

"You killed him?"

Her eyes narrowed at his accusatory tone. "Can't kill something that's already dead."

Before he could respond, her companion stepped between them. The woman he'd been fighting was nowhere to be seen. "We'll explain everything when we get somewhere safe. 'Til then, sit down and rest. It's a long night."

The two blondes glared at each other for another moment before following his directions, Alexis adding an irritated snort to emphasize just how unhappy she was. The covered man knocked on the roof of the cab. Millie leaned back towards the rear window to listen to him. "Keep heading south. I'll direct you."

"'Kay." She paused, then asked timidly, "Who were those people?"

The covered man sat, leaning his back against the cab. He sounded weary when he spoke.

"Those weren't people. They were demons. Vampires."

__

End part nine


	10. 

__

Part ten

The Ancients were dead and dusty legends of the abandoned Earth but millennia-long tradition was difficult to break. Masters still ruled, fledglings still paid fealty to their sires and all still hunted in the night, stalking their prey with deadly, sadistic glee.

The boy once called Jimmy Hanson glided through the subterranean passageways with a grace he had never possessed in life. Even so, his steps were hesitant and unsure, faltering as he grew closer to the Master's room.

He was merely a messenger, but bearers of bad news didn't always survive their missions. And Jimmy didn't particularly want to end his unlife just days after it started. As violent as his birth had been into this twilight existence, he had every intention of taking advantage of eternity for all it was worth. Which was rather difficult to do if he was nothing more than bits of dust blowing in the wind.

He knocked on the chamber door, unsure whether he wanted it answered or not. After a minute of silence, he decided to turn away, only to be stopped by a low male voice. "Come in."

Jimmy lay bitter odds he'd timed it that way on purpose, too.

The fledgling stepped cautiously inside, halting a few steps beyond the door. The Master lounged on a large chair that had been modified over time to include several bones, some with the flesh still stubbornly clinging on, giving the room a smell of slow rot. While a human would've found the scent nauseating, all it did was make Jimmy hungry.

A glow to the right sent the Master's face into sharp relief, harsh, narrow features contrasted by long, black hair styled fashionably about the shoulders. It should've made him look effeminate but seemed to heighten his dangerousness instead.

The Master grinned; a smile made of nothing but teeth. "Well, boy, don't be shy. Give me news."

Jimmy took an unnecessary breath and stepped closer. "We've, ah, had problems with the hunt tonight."

"Clarify."

"Er, right," Jimmy shifted nervously. "You see, we were attacked. By Vash the Stampede."

The Master remained dead silent for a moment, raising Jimmy's nerves, before giving a surprised chuckle. "Oh, that is a good one, boy. How long did the legend last anyway? A minute? Two?"

"Actually, Master, he escaped."

All traces of humor vanished. "What?"

Jimmy swallowed but continued with his report. "He took advantage of his marksmanship and fled. When we pursued him to an old barn, his gang ambushed us. Several were actually killed."

"They knew how to kill us?"

"Ah, yes."

Again silence and Jimmy began to strongly suspect his unlife was about to end shortly. Much to his surprise, the Master simply smiled, eyes shrewd and ruthless. "Gather the others. We're moving our time table up."

"Um, okay. What about Vash, Master?"

"Do nothing. The humans will take care of the problem for us shortly."

"But-"

"I gave an order."

"Yes, Master."

As the fledgling scurried out of the room, the Master rose from his seat and strolled languidly over to the source of the room's illumination. "Well, well, the outlaw has graced us with his presence. This makes things far more interesting." He placed a cool hand against the large bulb. "Don't you think?"

Within its glass shell, the Plant silently screamed.

__

End part ten


	11. 

__

Part eleven

They arrived at an old farmhouse about an hour later, a place the covered man – who'd finally introduced himself as Liam – declared to be safe. Why this would be any safer than the abandoned barn, he didn't elaborate on and Meryl was too tired to argue with him.

That didn't mean she was happy, though.

She sat at an old wooden table in the kitchen as Millie made herself right at home, preparing tea for the weary group. Alexis, lip stuck out in an irritated pout, was slumped down opposite her, flipping her stake idly in the air. Vash sat silent next to her, his face deliberately blank, tension practically radiating off of him.

Liam settled into a chair, carefully peeling off his outer layer of clothing. Meryl had been expecting an older man but was surprised to see a pale face a scant few years older than her own. He was handsome after a fashion, with a wide mouth, large brow, and short, brown hair spiked in a strangely familiar style. She briefly wondered if he and Vash visited the same barber. The outlaw himself just frowned at the other man, as though trying to solve some great puzzle.

Millie returned to the table with a tray full of teacups, which she quietly passed out to the four others without asking if they wanted any or not. When she finally sat down, Liam cleared his throat.

"Humans have long dominated the earth, both here and on their original world. But as long as there have been humans, there have been others, terrible beasts and monstrosities that have hidden and hunted among them, using the night to cover their evil."

His voice was surprisingly fit to storytelling and Meryl found herself unconsciously leaning forward, the words weaving a dry, eerie spell over her.

"Vampires are not so powerful as some but they are legion, able to pass themselves off as human and killing without compunction, without thought. Were it not for the Slayers, humanity would have been lost long ago.

"The Slayer has existed since time out of mind, almost as long as the demons themselves. She is always a girl, born with extraordinary strength and agility, her purpose to protect humanity from those who would destroy them. And should she be killed, another is Called, so one is always there to stand against the forces of darkness." He nodded towards Alexis. "Alexis is the Chosen One for this generation, a Slayer. I serve as her guardian and teacher."

No one spoke for a minute after he finished his brief narrative. Meryl did her best to wrap her mind around this new information, trying to realign her perception of reality to accommodate it. Psychotic killers with delusions of grandeur, okay, but honest-to-god undead creatures of the night? It all sounded so unreal, a dark fairy tale or bizarre joke without a punch line.

And then she recalled a thirty-foot tall boy with his mad scientist father and decided there were stranger things out there than vampires.

"Real vampires," she muttered. It still sounded weird.

"L-like Dracula," Millie nodded with a tremulous smile.

"Okay. Alright, I'm dealing, yes," Meryl took a deep breath, steadying herself. She was able, she was strong, and she was ready to have her first serious discussion about vampires. "So, what are they capable of? And why are we safe here? And what do they want?"

Liam gave her a half-smile, looking somewhat relieved that she could accept this so calmly. "They're near immortal – only sun, fire or a stake through the heart will kill them. And they're far stronger than humans. However, they can't get into a home they haven't been invited to." He swept his hand around. "We chose the barn because it was closer to town but the house is warded against them. As long as someone lives here, we're safe. As for what they want, I'm not sure. Alexis and I have tracked them for some time but why they came here in particular, I can't say. It's possible they just chose this town for its seclusion."

"I have a question."

Meryl jumped at the sound of Vash's voice. He'd been so abnormally quiet she'd almost forgotten he was there. The outlaw stared straight at Liam. "Why do you kill them?"

"What are you, stupid?" The outburst came from Alexis. Liam merely raised an eyebrow.

"We don't. We release them." Vash opened his mouth to argue but was halted by a raised hand from the other man. "When a human is turned into a vampire, a demon takes over. Heart function stops, their lungs cease drawing air, and they no longer eat anything except blood. The soul – whatever makes them human, their conscience, their choice – is pushed to the side and suppressed. All that's left is the demon animating dead flesh. Killing a vampire simply releases the soul and sends the demon back where it belongs."

"What happens if the soul takes over again?"

For the first time, Liam actually faltered, a crack showing through his calm exterior. Even Alexis looked faintly startled. Meryl couldn't help a small smile, which she hid behind her mug. Count on Vash to throw anyone off balance and for once, it wasn't her.

"There – it only happened once, hundreds of years ago," Liam answered haltingly. "It apparently was a – disastrous experience."

  
"But if it happened before, then-"

"No." The word was firm as Liam regained his equilibrium. "The means to accomplish that were lost with Earth. It's not an option."

Vash remained silent for a moment before responding in a quiet, even tone, "No one ever has the right to take the life of another."

And for a second time, Vash managed to disturb the stoic man. It was less pronounced than before but Meryl could still see his jaw tightening. Liam met the outlaw in the eye. "They aren't alive. You can't kill something that's already dead."

"No breath, no heartbeat, no life," Alexis added with a triumphant smirk. "Therefore, I can slay it."

"How can you-"

"This is *not* open for discussion," Liam cut him off firmly. "You're in a whole different league now, boy. And that means you have to play by my rules."

Meryl mimicked Vash's unhappy expression. It'd been quite some time since she'd seen someone argue quite so adamantly against Vash's beliefs. Calling the gunman "boy" (and from someone who couldn't be much older than him) just added insult to injury. She felt a little obligated to defend him.

"Why should we trust you on this?" she asked. "That girl attacked Vash last night without provocation."

"This 'girl' saved your hides *tonight,* " Alexis snapped. "Or did you forget that already?"

"Hush, Lex," Liam soothed, then turned to Meryl. "Look, I understand your caution. I'd do the same in your position. But, please, trust me enough to listen. I don't want any of you to get killed."

Meryl couldn't come up with a good counter-argument to that and Vash was still sulking. Abruptly, Millie stood up and crossed back to the stove. "Does anyone want some more tea?"

"Millie!"

"What?" Her partner blinked at Meryl's admonition. "Mister Liam just doesn't want us to get hurt. And since we won't be going anywhere for a while, we might as well relax and have tea and not worry about these problems until we've had some rest and are far more sensible."

A beat of silence and then, surprisingly, Alexis spoke. "I'd like another cup."

Millie beamed.

***  


Shortly before dawn, a tattered, brown poster was slid underneath the door to the Sheriff's office.

An hour later, Buck arrived, noticed the piece of paper lying on the floor, and picked it up. His eyes widened as he saw what was on it.

"Son of a bitch."

__

End part eleven


	12. 

Note for the Buffy ignorant: According to the Buffiverse, you have to be bitten by vampire and then suck a vampire's blood in order to be turned. Just getting bitten won't turn you but it'll probably leave you with a severe case of deadness.

__

Part twelve

Meryl slept fitfully and she was fairly certain Vash hadn't slept at all, if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication. At least the bruising he'd gotten the evening before looked better.

She'd been surprised when Liam had suggested they go back to Salem, but he was politely firm on the matter, even when Vash insisted he help.

"Then keep an eye on the situation in town. But, frankly, you just aren't equipped to handle this."

That had earned him a dark look though the gunman said nothing more on the matter.

And so it was an exhausted trio that made their way back to the boarding house that morning. Meryl didn't even notice the door to her room was unlocked until she looked up to see Sheriff Buck sitting at her breakfast table.

"Sheriff? What-?"

She heard Millie yelp and turned in time to see two deputies swoop in behind Vash and restrain him. The sheriff rose and crossed to her, shoving a piece of paper in her face.

"This arrived on my doorstep this morning," he said coldly.

Meryl looked down at the parchment and paled.

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

VASH THE STAMPEDE

$$60,000,000,000 REWARD

And right under that an artist's rendition of the infamous outlaw. It wasn't an exact likeness, but it was close enough.

"Deputies, read that man his rights and then arrest these two women, too."

"Wh-why us?" Millie stammered.

Buck's eyes were ice as stared her down. "Harboring and abetting a criminal for a start. We'll see from there."

Meryl started to protest, but Vash unexpectedly cut her off. "Don't bother, Sheriff. They were only following my instructions under duress. Helpless dupes, that's all."

Meryl's eyes narrowed. "Dupes?"

"Please, Meryl, it's over. Feel free to weep and fall into the arms of the Sheriff like you've been begging to do since we got here," Vash remarked snidely. "Not like I can threaten you from a jail cell."

He was giving them a way out, free of charges and all ties to him severed. Meryl froze, torn between her hard-earned loyalty to the gunman and the humiliation of being arrested.

Buck frowned at her. "This true? You here because he forced you to?"

"Oh, it's true, Sheriff," Vash scoffed, playing the bad boy attitude to the hilt. "Stubborn bitch, but even she's got a breaking point. It was fun finding it."

He met Meryl's gaze directly, face twisted in a sneer but eyes pleading, telling her to take this chance now, while she still could.

Clever Vash, so noble she wanted to scream. She wasn't sure who she hated more in that moment, him for giving her an out or herself for taking it.

"It's true," she whispered. "Every word of it."

Millie gasped. "But, Meryl-"

"No, Millie, it's over." Meryl placed her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, grip tighter than necessary, and summoned tears that were already lying close to the surface. "We're free."

Vash's shoulders relaxed at her admission and he calmly allowed the deputies to lead him away. Buck still looked unhappy as he turned back to the girls. "You'll need to come down to the station to give your statements."

"Could it wait at all?" Meryl asked, over-emphasizing her very real fatigue. "This has been such a trying ordeal for the two of us. We just need some time to rest."

His eyes narrowed and for a moment, Meryl was worried he would force the issue. He finally sighed and waved them off. "Fine, I'll get you later. But," he warned, "I'm posting a deputy here to keep an eye on you. I want to find my witnesses where I left 'em."

Meryl released her hold on Millie slightly. "Thank you, Sheriff. I knew you'd understand."

She dragged Millie into their room and slammed the door on the disapproving glare of the lawman. She made it to her bed before trembling legs gave out on her and she collapsed into a nervous wreck on the comforter. "God."

"Meryl, how could you let them just take Mister Vash? He didn't do anything."

"I know, I know," Meryl muttered, swiping at the moisture in her eyes. "But I doubt the sheriff would've believed me after lying to him the first time."

"But you just lied again-"

"I know!" Meryl regretted her outburst as soon as she saw the hurt look in the other woman's face. She took a deep, steadying breath and tried to focus. Sitting in here and crying wasn't going to help them or Vash, no matter how much she may have wanted to. What they needed now was a plan.

And reinforcements.

"We need Alexis."

Millie blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Those vampires are still out there and Vash may have been able to handle them, but I can't," she admitted. "We need to go back and get Alexis. Before nightfall."

"What about Mister Vash?"

Meryl tried to ignore the ache in heart as she spoke the truth. "We'll have to worry about him later. This town's got much bigger problems than Vash the Stampede."

__

End part twelve


	13. 

__

Part thirteen

He stood on the hillside overlooking the rec room. The simulated sun shone brightly above him but it generated no heat upon his back. _Liam sat at a card table a couple feet away, playing a hand of poker with a blonde man whom Vash first thought was his brother but upon further inspection saw it wasn't his twin after all. The two men both dressed in black and bet not with poker chips but tiny, rainbow-colored balls._

__

"I'll see your two green M&M's and raise you three blue ones," Liam said, throwing the disks into the center pile. "Is it the blood?"

__

"It's always the blood," his companion said agreeably. "Double or nothing?"

__

"You're on."

__

Knives lounged on the grass behind them, a pair of black wraparound sunglasses perched on his nose, obscuring his eyes. A pale, dark-haired woman danced around him, dangling a broken doll in front of his nose.

__

"Do y'know what she says?" she asked, shaking the doll. "She says the stars sing of a hole in the moon."

__

Knives sighed. "It's day, princess."

__

"Lovely weather." _Rem stepped up beside him. She wore a leather ball gown, scarlet in color, the top fitting her tightly and accentuating her curves while the bottom flared out into a full skirt. She twirled a wooden stake in her hand._

__

He nodded. "Yes, it is."

__

"Time to lay 'em on the table, Will," Liam announced. Both men spread their cards and Will grunted in disappointment as Liam claimed his prize.

__

"Angels with clipped wings are dangerous," Rem remarked. "But they can always fly again."

__

"How can you be so certain?" Vash asked.

__

"Because there is a pattern."

__

"I don't understand."

__

"Don't worry, you will." She gave him a brilliant smile. "It's how destiny works."

Vash woke.

He sat up stiffly, back cracking as he moved. The hard cell bench had made an uncomfortable bed, but tired as he was, it had hardly mattered.

He ran a hand through his hair, which had fallen out of its customary spikes and now hung in stiff clumps around his face. He idly brought a strand in front of his eyes and frowned at it.

Vash didn't dream as most did. Although his nightly imaginings were often chaotic and jumbled, they were rarely just a series of non sequitors. Each one had a meaning of some kind, whether it was actual memory or symbolic interpretation, and each one would stay with him long after waking.

This one was no different, even if its message wasn't immediately apparent.

Al l right. What was his subconscious trying to tell him?

Rem, wearing something she'd have never owned in life. Liam and the blonde man playing high-stakes poker. His brother and that woman. Everything was interwoven in some way. Rem said it was a pattern; events, people, history all repeated.

A hint of déjà vu tingled at the edge of his senses and he grasped at it, franticly trying to figure out why this was all so hauntingly familiar.

And, just like that, he knew.

A hot bus ride. A stop in the desert. A most unusual priest, simultaneously aggravating and drawing him in. A ship, old, abandoned, still trying to fulfill its duty even long after its masters had died and turned to dust.

It was so stupidly obvious. He knew exactly where the monsters had been hiding. And why he feared them so.

He rose to his feet just as Buck burst through the cellblock door, an angry scowl directed towards the outlaw. "Where the hell are they?"

Vash blinked. The sheriff couldn't have known this entire time. "What-?"

"The women," Buck spat. "Your damn insurance girls knocked out my deputy and took off. Where'd they go?"

"I-I don't know." The news caught him off-guard and he tried to reassert the persona he'd established. "Why you asking me? They're *women.* I don't keep track of what goes on in those fool heads of theirs."

It sounded forced even to Vash and the sheriff's eyes narrowed. He took a step forward but still remained out of reach of the outlaw's arms. "Know what I think?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"I think you've been working together from the beginning, played us all for damn fools. And now I've got to track down two killers while you sit there and laugh at us from your cell."

"You believe what you want, Sheriff, but I'll tell you one thing." He was practically a blur as he rushed the bars, slamming into them. Buck automatically stumbled back and Vash gave him a grim smile. "I don't go around ripping out little girls' throats. This town's troubles started long before I got here."

Buck swallowed. "You don't scare me."

"Better hope I do. Otherwise, a lot more people are gonna die and neither one of us will be able to stop it."

The sheriff held his gaze a moment longer before abruptly walking out without another word. Vash managed to make it back to the bench before his knees took a holiday.

Meryl and Millie escaped, that was good. Part of him hoped they ran as far away from him as possible. But another colder, more practical part sincerely hoped they'd gone back to Alexis and Liam.

Because, god help him, he needed the Slayer.

__

End part thirteen


	14. 

__

Part fourteen

Buck didn't consider himself a particularly arrogant man, but he had always taken pride in his job. He'd even considered himself fairly competent at it.

Now, in a matter of days, that belief had been stripped away. Bad enough that such horrendous murders had afflicted his town but to discover that Vash the Stampede had been right under his nose…

Really, what the hell type of name was Vincent Price anyway?

He looked through the barred door separating his office from the holding cells. Vash had fallen asleep again, lanky frame folded on the lone bench, coat tucked around him as a blanket. His face in repose looked far younger, almost child-like, a sharp contrast to the man's well-know vicious nature.

That was something else that bothered the sheriff. Too many things didn't make sense. The pattern killer had been terrorizing Salem for weeks but Vash had only been spotted in town within the last few days. Plus, according to the people he'd interviewed over the past twenty-four hours, he'd been making a right nuisance of himself, too. So, why risk exposure for his crimes? And who had found that wanted poster in the first place? Buck had received occasional updates on the case almost since he'd become sheriff but hadn't gotten any paperwork on the outlaw in years.

Something was wrong. He just didn't know what.

The hell with it. The satellite message had been sent and the feds would be here in a couple days, taking the entire situation off his hands. He could collect the reward, rebuild his town, and never have to worry about Vash the Stampede again.

Pounding on the door startled him out of his reverie and Vash out of his sleep. Buck checked his pocket-watch and frowned. It was a little late for anyone to visit and too early for disturbance complaints to be coming in already. It could be another body, but he sincerely hoped not.

He rose languidly from his desk even as the knocking began shaking the door in its hinges. "All right, I'm coming! Keep your pants on."

"Sheriff." The outlaw had risen and was staring seriously at him from between the bars. "Don't."

Buck ignored the order and opened the door. His jaw fell. "Jimmy? Boy, what the hell happened to you?"

The young man leaned heavily against the wall, pale and trembling, blood seeping from a wound at his side. "Sheriff, you gotta help me. I-I escaped…the gang – they're crazy."

"Don't believe him," Vash spoke again. "Don't let him in."

"What?" Jimmy blinked, sagging a little further down the wall. "Who is that?"

"No one, son," Buck shook his head, even though he gave the outlaw a cursory glance. Probably just another head game. "Get in here, already. You look like death warmed over."

The boy nodded wearily and stumbled inside, nearly falling over. The sheriff caught him around the shoulders and guided him to one of the visitor's chairs. "You need anything? Food?"

"Water, please."

Buck nodded and filled up a cup with the pitcher on his desk, then retrieved a towel for Jimmy's cut. While he placed the cloth against the wound to staunch the blood flow, Jimmy drank down the water, barely pausing to breathe. 

"What happened, Jimmy? Who took you?"

"I-I don't know," the boy shuddered. "They didn't say much. They-they…" He paused, took a deep breath, and finished in a whisper, "They said they took orders from Vash the Stampede."

"He's lying." Vash looked about ready to break down the door if the Buck didn't start listening. "Sheriff, please, you're in danger."

He sounded desperate. More importantly, he sounded sincere. Buck frowned at him. A few hours ago, the outlaw couldn't stop bragging how he'd fooled them all. Now, he seemed – scared. But of what, he didn't know.

"What's going on?" Jimmy's question brought his attention back to the task at hand. "What's he know 'bout this?"

"Probably nothing. You sure you heard that name right? It was definitely Vash the Stampede?"

" 'Course I did." Jimmy shifted back, looking offended, even a little angry. "You believe me, right?"

" Sure, Jimmy," Buck answered. Something most definitely did not add up here, and again he had only the vaguest idea of what it might be.

He looked towards the outlaw and stepped closer to the cell door. "You've got other men here?"

Vash shook his head, wide eyes drifting to Jimmy behind him. "I don't *have* any men. The girls were the only ones with me, I swear. Please, get out of here."

It fell into sudden place. Jimmy. The outlaw was terrified of Jimmy, that was what was wrong. And not because the boy could testify against him, but because something was inherently wrong with the boy himself.

Buck reached for his keys, ready to face whatever danger the outlaw offered over the boy behind him when he suddenly realized that the boy was *behind* him and that was really a very stupid position to be in. And then he felt a sharp pain in his neck, which he thought was a bit odd before he ceased thinking about anything at all and his world went black.

***  


Vash stumbled back as Buck's body slumped to the floor, the sheriff's head now twisted at an unnatural angle.

The boy, Jimmy, grinned, features melting from human to the yellow-eyed monstrosity of the night before. "Sorry 'bout that, but couldn't have the sheriff letting you out or nothing."

The vampire grabbed the cell bars and pulled. The metal slowly began to bend.

"After all, I wanna see how you taste."

__

End Part Fourteen


	15. 

__

Part fifteen

Meryl watched the suns stretch long shadows across the desert, fully aware of just how much of the day had slipped by. Escaping the deputies and getting back to the farmstead had taken more time than she realized and now on their way back to town, they raced against the encroaching night.

Of course, she wasn't sure which would kill them first, the vampires or Alexis's driving. The Slayer had managed to swipe her keys and was now happily speeding along at rates that would even have made Vash nervous.

As the truck flew over yet another ditch along the uneven terrain, Meryl glanced back at the two people sitting in the bed. Liam rested comfortably in the corner, arms holding on to either edge of the truck. He was again covered from head to foot, not an inch of skin showing, so Meryl couldn't tell if he was gritting his teeth or had simply gotten used to Alexis's unique take on the rules of the road. She also made a note to ask him if he ever got hot in that get-up.

Millie sat opposite him, considerably less Zen-like, and mostly just clinging for dear life to the sides of the bed.

No one spoke. All words, explanations and panicked planning had been made before they left. Now too many nerves and too much tension stilled their tongues, the weight of expectation lending to the grim atmosphere.

This was it. Whatever 'it' was.

They pulled into a silent Salem, the streets clear of any pedestrians. It seemed even the residents had sensed the coming storm and retreated to the safety of their homes.

Alexis pulled over curbside, if by "pulled over" one meant "spun into a one-eighty and somehow managed to stop the truck before it hit a building." Meryl willed her stomach to stop flip-flopping before getting out.

The foursome congregated by the rear of the truck. Alexis leaped nimbly onto the bed, pulling back the tarp there and revealing an array of weapons underneath it. Liam looked back towards the town gates. "You sure they appeared over there?"

Meryl nodded. "Just came right out of the ground. Like something out of a moving picture."

"Hmph." The covered man looked to Alexis. "What do we have there?"

"A couple stakes, two swords, my crossbow, not much in the way of long distance weapons." Alexis placed her hands on her hips and frowned. "Wish we'd had time to get the harpoon."

Meryl raised an eyebrow. "Harpoon?"

"Long story," Liam waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, we'll have to make due with what we have. Millie should stay with Alexis – the stungun will probably slow them down better than just bullets. Meryl, you're with me."

"Going where?"

He didn't a get chance to answer before the suns disappeared below the horizon. As one, the group turned their eyes to the edge of Salem. For a breathless minute nothing happened. Then the ground began shifting, moving, the sediment disturbed as creatures of the night began their ascent out into the world of the living.

"George Romero's spinning in his grave," Liam muttered.

Meryl stared at him. "Who's George Romero?"

"Nothing, not important. We have to find an entrance to whatever caverns they're using, try to cut them off at the source. If Alexis and Millie can keep them off our backs up here…"

It came out as more of a question to the two girls. Alexis shrugged and picked up her crossbow. "As if I couldn't."

Millie bit her lip and glanced at Meryl. "Meryl?"

The insurance woman gave her partner a reassuring smile she didn't really feel. "I'll be fine. Stay here and help."

Millie nodded, took a deep breath, and scrabbled back onto the truck to stand with Alexis. Meryl shared a last glance with her before setting off with Liam.

The covered man took long strides, forcing Meryl to jog to keep up. He unraveled his scarf as they moved, removing his goggles and finally revealing his face again. He shoved everything into one of his duster pockets before unbuttoning the jacket and withdrawing his sword.

"Why do you carry that?" Meryl huffed.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Why do you carry a hundred derringers in your cape?"

"Well, ah." Meryl squirmed. "There are only fifty."

"Sorry. My mistake."

"And you didn't answer my question."

"Tell you what: I'll answer your question when you answer mine."

Before she had time to grow indignant, a sound she had become all too familiar with over the past few months reached her ears.

Gunfire.

There was no question in her mind as to who was in the middle of it.

"Vash."

She immediately ran towards the sheriff's office, Liam never breaking stride to change direction and keep up with her. Rounding the corner, she saw nothing but an empty street. Then Vash came tumbling out the sheriff's door, artificial arm unsheathed and machine gun firing.

"Vash!"

He swung towards her and for one, terrifying moment, she thought he would continue firing. But he lowered his weapon and blinked in confusion. "Meryl?"

Someone burst through the office window and tackled him, sending him to the ground. Meryl cursed and drew one of her derringers, trying to aim it at the outlaw's attacker, even if it was only useful as a distraction. But in the confusion of snarls, limbs and red coat, she couldn't get a clean shot.

She heard the soft ring of steel slicing through the air and suddenly Vash was fighting a cloud of dust. Liam wiped his sword on his sleeve before offering a hand to Vash. The gunman stared at it a moment before accepting it and rising to his feet. Meryl hurried up next to him. "Are you alright?"

"Think so." He certainly didn't look it, with his skin colored a pasty white and his hands trembling. He cleared his throat. "The sheriff's dead."

Meryl reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry."

He gave her tremulous smile. "It's okay." They both knew it wasn't but she let it slide. Vash looked to Liam. "Where's Alexis?"

"Covering the town gates," Liam told him. "We're trying to find an entrance underground."

The outlaw closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. When he looked up again, he seemed more composed. "It's at the engineering station."

"How do you know that?" Meryl asked.

"Because there aren't any caverns underneath this town. It's a ship."

And with that, he took off. Meryl wasted a second trying to figure out just what exactly he was talking about when she made the connection. She immediately followed him. "A spaceship? What you and Wolfwood found? How do you know that?"

The outlaw ignored the trail of questions, focused on his destination. Neither of them noticed Liam pause and frown.

"Of course," he muttered. "I should've thought of that."

Finished chastising himself, he ran to catch up with his new companions in arms.

__

End part fifteen


	16. 

__

Part sixteen

Every town had an engineering station. This was basic fact. Humans needed Plants. To use Plants, one needed the proper hook-up to water and power. And in order to connect the Plants to a town – no matter where the actual Plant was located – one needed an engineering station. For example, December City had three Plants. But those Plants provided power to more than twenty neighboring towns and villages, with a station in each town to monitor power outputs, fluctuations, and general maintenance.

Due to Salem's size, Vash had assumed that the town was hooked up to a larger city. That was a grave error on his part. One that had gotten the sheriff and who knew how many others killed.

Well, not anymore.

The station was located along the western edge of town, an unimpressive one-story building built from rusting aluminum siding. The windows were dark and grimy, layers of dust suggesting that it had been lying fallow for some time. The door stuck a bit when he pushed on it but finally gave way with a protesting shriek. The interior was too dark to see by twilight alone and he groped along the wall for a light switch. He fumbled around a familiar shape and flicked it on.

The ceiling lamps flickered on as computers, long unused, lumbered to life. A light, pungent breeze touched his face from cooling fans created to prevent the equipment from overheating. He stepped forward, looking to the nearest terminal, hoping to find some measure of output.

He was vaguely aware of Meryl and Liam's presence behind him, cautiously following his lead and searching the equipment. Meryl frowned. "It looks like this place hasn't been used in years. Why isn't anyone here?"

"Plants run pretty autonomously," Vash murmured absently, typing commands into the keypad under the monitor. "If there wasn't a problem, they probably didn't need to be here."

"I guess." Meryl rubbed her arms. "Is anyone else cold?"

Liam shrugged, absorbed in a manual he'd found. Vash barely heard her, as he stared at the results of his system search. Despite the long period of neglect, the Plant monitors still operated. He just didn't like what they told him.

"She's in trouble."

Meryl tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"

Vash bit his lip, cursing the minor slip. He covered quickly. "The Plant. Something's wrong with h-it." He pointed to a graph displayed on screen. "Power has been dropping for the past few months. Not enough yet to cause alarm, but it's consistent. It – it may be dying."

A half-truth. He could feel her beneath them now, just barely at the moment, but the pull was nevertheless there. There was no "may be" about it. And that frightened him.

He tried to hide that as best he could from Meryl but she still shuddered. Even without an empathic connection like his own, he knew she would be worried. The fear of Plant failure had been drilled into the head of every child born within the last century and a half. They remained the first and last defense against the desert's harsh, unforgiving environment.

He placed a hand on her arm. "C'mon. Let's find the ship and get out of here."

She nodded, giving him a half-smile. Liam glided up beside her. "About time. Where to?"

Vash closed his eyes, opening his mind further to the pull, allowing the Plant below to guide him. The tug grew stronger and he opened his eyes. He pointed towards a door at the back of the room. "That way."

He led them back into a smaller room, something that appeared to have once been an office of some sort. Along the far wall, another door stood ajar, revealing a closet. He approached and looked inside. Rotted cardboard boxes were piled on the floor, along with scattered yellow papers and something that might have been a mop in another life. The tug came from beneath all of them.

He cleared the junk away, ignoring Meryl's squawk as old cardboard hit her. Underneath the dust, just barely visible, was the outline of a trap door. He wiped away the dirt as best he could before he tried the rusted handle. At first, the door wouldn't budge, so he braced himself, got a two-handed grip and pulled. His muscles objected strenuously to the attempt but it worked and the metal finally gave way with a disgruntled groan.

He poked his head into the corridor underneath. The main lights had long ago been destroyed but the emergency beacons still flickered, revealing what looked like a maintenance shaft. He felt Meryl sidle up beside him.

"What's in there?"

He straightened and turned to let his legs dangle over the opening. "Not much. Still has some working lights, though."

He dropped down to the corridor floor, raising small clouds of dust where he landed. The ceiling was low, forcing him to bend over uncomfortably. He looked back to Meryl. "Come on down, but watch your head."

Meryl nodded and slipped down beside him. A moment later, Liam fell nimbly through the door, barely making a sound as his feet touched the ground. Vash gave them enough time to catch their breaths before taking off again.

The shaft dead-ended at another door after about ten feet. Again, the hinges stuck but gave way after some effort, revealing a full-size hallway behind them. From there, the empathic call directed Vash to the right, his companions close at his heels.

"How do you know where to go?" Meryl asked, a derringer clutched tightly in each hand.

"It's similar to the last ship Wolfwood and I were in. Figure it can't hurt to go the same way." Another lie and at Meryl's sour expression, he wished he could take it back. At heart, he trusted her, even considered her something of a friend, a realization that constantly surprised him. But he couldn't tell her the truth about his knowledge or how he had come by it. Not yet.

Liam remained silent.

Their footsteps echoed through the ancient ship, no other sounds marking their passage save for their breathing. It appeared as though they were the only living beings there, an irony that was not lost on the outlaw.

"Are you sure they're here?" Meryl whispered, her words sounding loud in the dead hallway.

"They have to be," Vash answered just as quietly, though there didn't appear a need for either of them to lower their voices. "No where else for them to go."

Meryl sighed. "Maybe they all went topside tonight."

So, of course, that was when they turned a corner and came face to face with five vampires.

The two groups shared a moment of stupefied silence, before the vampires snarled and rushed their trio.

Two of them hit Vash, tumbling to the ground in a heap of limbs. As he kicked out, dislodging one of his attackers, he heard Meryl yelp and fire off a gun, the shot almost deafeningly loud in the enclosed space. Apparently, the vampires' hearing was more sensitive than his own because they all howled in pain in response. Vash took the momentary respite to shove his Colt into the gut of his remaining adversary and pull the trigger.

Another boom, more muffled by flesh, and the vampire stumbled back. Vash blocked out the agonized screams, keeping up a continuous mantra in his head: _can't be killed, can't be killed, can't be killed…_

It eased his conscience somewhat but didn't stop his stomach from twisting into knots. Nor did it give him time to prepare for the next attack, which threw him into a wall and knocked the wind out of him.

The brawl continued, driving both groups further down the hall. Vash lost track of Meryl and Liam in the melee, concentrated more on just keeping the vampires *down* without resorting to Alexis's final, deadly tactics.

A lucky blow with his metal hand slammed another vampire into the bulkhead with enough force to knock him unconscious. Two down, three to go.

Meryl's scream distracted him from his self-congratulations. He turned in time to see a female vamp clamp down onto the insurance girl's neck, eliciting another scream from the trapped woman. Blood spurted from the cut artery and splashed against her white cape.

"Meryl!" The word ripped from his throat, horrified and furious, the sight of that annoying, stubborn, tenacious woman slumping down, seriously injured, doing awful, unexpected things to his insides.

It wasn't *right.* This wasn't how their game was played. She wasn't ever, *ever* supposed to get hurt.

He allowed cool instinct to wash over him, took aim with his gun, and fired.

The vampire jerked back as the bullet sliced neatly through her left eye. She let go of Meryl and nearly flew into the wall, hands feebly scratching at the hole in her face. Vash was by Meryl's side before she hit the floor. Her skin was dead white, the puncture marks from the vampire's bite bleeding continuously.

"Meryl?" He held his jacket against her wound, warm blood staining the red a deeper scarlet. She remained unresponsive to his entreaty and he felt panicked tears pricking at his eyes. "Please, Meryl, you have to wake up. We can't stay here."

A hand came down on his shoulder, nearly causing him to jump and lose his hold. Liam hunkered down beside him, brown eyes serious but not unkind. Vash had almost forgotten the other man was with them and seeing that the remaining vampires were no longer there, had to assume he had taken care of them.

Liam placed a hand against Meryl's chest, frowning slightly. "Heartbeat's steady. She'll be alright but she needs medical attention."

Vash paled. "I don't even know where the town doctor is. And we still have to get her out of the engineering station."

Liam shook his head. "Sometimes you surprise me, Vash the Stampede. The sign for med bay is down the hall. Everything we need should be there."

Vash nodded, then started as his words truly sunk in. "Wait, how did you-"

"I know a lot more than you'd think. And talking about it is only going to waste time we don't have." Liam held out his arms, ready to gather Meryl up as soon as Vash let go.

The outlaw tightened his hold momentarily, the sudden mystery of the covered man sowing doubt in his mind. He would be entrusting Meryl's life to a man he suddenly realized he knew almost nothing about. A man who knew things he couldn't possibly know.

If he were human.

__

Angels with clipped wings…

Vash reluctantly released the girl, allowing Liam to sweep her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. He almost stepped after him when the pull suddenly flared up, greater than before, halting him in his tracks. Liam tilted his head, curious, then nodded in understanding. "You better go."

Vash bit his lip. "I should – she may-"

"I'll take care of her, I promise," Liam told him. "Go."

Vash spared one more glance at Meryl before giving into the cry and running onward, all the while hoping that whatever Rem had been trying to tell him had been right and the covered man could be trusted.

He couldn't bear to think otherwise.

***  


Millie tried to count the number of vampires spilling into town but finally gave up.

There were *definitely* more than there'd been last night. She tried to show them that they didn't scare her, sticking out her chin defiantly, hefting her stungun with deadly accuracy. She just hoped they couldn't hear her knees knocking together.

As opposed to Alexis, who was not only utterly unfazed but actually seemed to revel in the battle, picking off targets with a grin spread across her face.

Another vampire burst into ash from her crossbow and as she reloaded, Millie frowned. "That's an awful waste of wood."

Alexis sighted a new target, pulled the trigger, and _twang_! One less vampire to worry about. "It's not wood."

"But I thought only a wooden stake-"

"It's an artificial synthesized grain, filled with holy water, designed to disintegrate on impact. Almost as good as the real thing." All this explained as she calmly killed two more vamps. "Only my stakes are wood and I never lose those."

"Oh." Millie nodded. "That's very clever."

Her admiration almost made her miss two vampires sneaking past Alexis's arrow line and she quickly turned her gun on them. With a well-timed shot, she managed to trap both of them underneath one baton, the specially designed rubber standing up to even their enhanced strength.

She noticed Alexis staring and blushed. "What?"

The Slayer pointed at her stungun and grinned. "I have got to get me one of those."

__

End part sixteen


	17. 

__

Part seventeen

Vash suspected he'd been subconsciously picking up her call since he'd arrived, accounting for the irrational panic that had been clawing at him for the past couple nights. For the most part, he had controlled it.

Now, so close to the Plant chamber, he was no longer certain which emotions were his and which were the Plant's.

__

fearpanicterrorhelphelphelp

He tried to send out calm, cool comfort to assuage her fears but all he could understand was that same unrelenting dread. It drove him on, pushing his cautious walk into a jog, then run, and finally into an all-out sprint. He thought he may have encountered another vampire in this blind, stumbling journey but he wasn't sure. Perhaps that had been earlier with that girl – what was her name? – the one who had been hurt, who existed in time. 

Perhaps not.

__

terorrhorrorpainherepainhereimhere

He skidded to halt outside the door, knowing she was there, right *there,* waiting for him, waiting so long.

He stepped inside and almost immediately gagged on the stench. Something – many somethings – had died here, bones and flesh still strewn about the room. Some were small and oddly shaped, hapless animals at the wrong place and wrong time. Others were far larger and recognizable.

__

herehereatlastreliefhelpescapestayawaywrongherebutoverpainpainpain

He took calming breaths through his mouth, ignoring the atrocity that surrounded him, concentrated solely on the bulb at the center of it all. The light from within was still a light blue, pulsing regularly. But even as he watched, it faltered, dimming, tinged with a sickly green. He stepped forward, taking one glove off and letting it drop to the floor. He placed his only real hand against the glass, closed his eyes, and opened himself fully to the alien mind within.

__

hereagaintheyaretheymeanpainalwayspainneverenoughforthemalwaysmoremoremore

__

never enough more consuming everything everyone kill

__

Killers They're killers

__

And They're. So. Hungry.

"Oh god."

His voice coming from ever so far away, choked, almost sobbing.

"They're *feeding* off of you."

***  


The Master watched from the shadows as the strange man stumbled into the antechamber, blindly groping his way to the Plant bulb. He'd hardly expected anyone to find the ship, let alone travel this far into it.

Strange. The Master tilted his head to the side, listening. Since sipping of the Plant's life, he'd become aware of a low-level hum constantly surrounding her that occasionally resolved itself into impressions and meanings. Now, it appeared she was responding to the blonde collapsed against her outer shell, almost as if she were – communicating?

Could it be…?

The Master licked his lips in anticipation. To have a Plant without the difficulty of entering the bulb was a delicacy indeed. He stepped forward, moving from shadow to shadow, quiet as a cat, eyes yellow-bright in the dark. This meal would be so very sweet, the man never aware of him, not until it was too late and his fangs were already in his neck, feeding off of that most precious fluid…

Something almost like a warning came from the Plant and the man turned. The bulb shone brighter, the glare creating spots in front of the Master's eyes. His prey no longer stood in front of him. Or rather, it did but it no longer appeared as it had before. Instead a vision of pure fury glared at him, eyes pulsing blue, and limbs very like wings unfurled behind it.

"Get. Out." The vision told him.

The Master was predatory, arrogant, cruel, and never one to pass up on an easy meal. However, the Master was by no way stupid.

He spent another half-second gaping before turning tail and fleeing from the room.

***  


Meryl's first conscious thought upon waking was _how the hell did I get such a bad kink in my neck?_

Then she remembered.

With a groan, she opened her eyes, blearily registering that she didn't have the faintest idea where she was. She rose slowly but the world still insisted on swimming around her, instead of coming to rest sensibly.

"Easy now. Not so fast."

Hands settled against her back and she looked up to find Liam's face smiling fuzzily at her. Deciding for the moment that she'd rather be on her back than nauseous, she allowed him to guide her back down. She swallowed against a dry mouth. "What happened?"

"A vampire attacked you." Oh yeah, that was in vivid detail. She sincerely hoped Liam had gotten the bitch who bit her, a wish that was confirmed by the man a moment later. "We chased away or killed the rest of them, but you needed first aid. I brought you to the med bay and Vash continued on ahead."

"What?" She immediately sat up again, stomachache and sore neck be damned. "You let him go off by *himself?* What were you thinking?"

The attempt to get out of the bed met with even less success than before as the room continued to spin and Liam firmly held her in place. "You needed my help more than he did."

"Hello? Bad things happen when he's left up to his own devices. Property damage, emotional trauma, psychotic robots." Scars, abandonment, tears, she didn't add. Enough time to think about those later, after she had rescued his sorry ass. Again.

Liam, however, didn't appear to share that opinion, never allowing her to rise more than a few inches off the bed, simply waiting for her wooziness and exhaustion to take over instead. When she'd at last collapsed back into her starting position, a dehydration headache starting to pound at her temples, he smirked. "Feel better?"

"No."

"Well, you shouldn't. Your system got a shock to it and it needs time to recuperate. Doctor's orders." She opened her mouth to protest, and he placed a gloved finger against it. "Don't push it."

Meryl sighed, resigned to fact that at the moment, she was out of commission.

She was just about to ask how Liam had learned to use any of the equipment here when he suddenly sat up straighter, eyes darting back to the door. She frowned. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately, shoulders tensing, breath so shallow she almost imagined he wasn't breathing at all. Abruptly, he stood. "I have to go."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Here." He reached inside his pocket, withdrawing a wooden cross, its end sharpened into a fine point. "Just in case. And keep your guns handy – they can at least slow anything down that comes after you."

"And just where are you going?" Meryl demanded.

"To take care of some business." Without another word, he swept out of the room. A moment later he stuck his head back around the doorway. "And I mean what I said before. Stay put."

He left before she could protest. She glared at the empty doorway, crossing her arms and refusing to pick up the cross he'd left for her.

"Yeah," she muttered. "That makes me feel *real* secure."

__

End part seventeen


	18. 

__

Part eighteen

Time drifted away from them, their connection strengthening, purifying, the pull turning into a single clear line of communication. Words came but they were secondary, the thoughts read almost before they were formed.

__

How long?

__

Long, as they see it. My end comes.

__

No, sister, no. Let me help.

__

No help, child. Too long, too much. But you are here. And now I may do what must be done.

__

Sister, please, there has to be another way.

__

This path was seen long before I found you. At least, with you, it serves greater purpose.

__

I-I can't. This – it is wrong.

__

Wrong? There is no word for it. It simply is.

__

I don't believe that.

__

Oh child, it exists whether you believe it or not.

__

Please, just – just give me some time. I can fix this. I know I can. And you won't – there has to be another way.

__

Yes, there is. Let them continue, let them feed. And more shall fall.

…

__

Help me let go. Please.

…

__

It is all right. Just hold me.

…

…

__

All right.

The connection drew them together, so close, intimate, a depth of being indescribable, until they merged, became one for a single shining moment.

Then she died.

And the world was nothing but light.

***  


Meryl thought she'd been very patient up until now. She'd stayed put, as ordered. She'd let the males run off like the idiots they were and do whatever it was that they thought was so damn important. In fact, she thought she'd handled herself with quite a bit more restraint than usual, in fact.

But enough was enough already.

She allowed her vision to clear up before ever so gingerly rising. The room wavered but stopped moving after a minute. With this minor victory under her belt, she made it to her feet in the same, careful fashion. Feeling much more in control now that she was standing, she retrieved her cloak and threw it over shoulders, exacerbating her headache but the world stayed firmly in place and she decided this meant she was ready to tackle the challenge of chasing down Vash.

She put off her plan for a moment to look around for anything resembling water or an aspirin but recognized just about nothing of the so-called med bay. Just how Liam had known what to use to treat her was a mystery she'd have to wait to solve until she found him.

Grabbing the cross and slipping a derringer into her palm, she headed for the door.

But before she could even take a step out of the room, the hallway flooded with light, blinding her.

***  


It was inevitable that the vampires would cross their defensive perimeter. Which they finally did.

Millie was a crack shot but hardly a hand-to-hand combatant. While Alexis concentrated on actually killing their attackers, Millie mostly just hit them and ran away until she encountered another one and executed the same tactic all over. Her one advantage lay in her own innate strength, something the vampires generally chose to ignore.

But there were a lot more of them than there were of her.

She slammed the butt of her stungun into a vampire's stomach, retreating until she backed into Alexis, the two girls automatically forming a tighter unit. The Slayer's stamina was finally giving out on her, her breaths coming out shorter and harder. Sensing their exhaustion, the vampires circled up and closed in.

"Just remember," Alexis panted, hefting stakes in both hands. "We're not gonna die here."

"We aren't?"

"Nope. I refuse to die in such a stupid way."

Millie spared her a small, tight smile.

"What the hell-?"

One of the vampires looked past them, gaping at something over her shoulder. Millie turned and found her own jaw dropping.

A single beam of light shot straight up from the ground in the distance, faintly pulsing with energy. For a moment it remained there, straight, unwavering, lighting up the night sky. Then it started expanding.

Rapidly.

"Get down!"

Alexis threw herself at Millie, knocking both of them to the ground. They rolled together, coming to a rest on their stomachs, eyes closed as the light washed over them, leaving behind a palpable sense of its passing in harsh wind, desert grit and the howls of the undead.

***  


In a period of no more than thirty seconds that felt like an eternity, the desert planet stood in awe of a third sun emanating from a small town that almost no one had heard of and even less cared about. Years later, when Salem was nothing more than a ghost town, physicists and Plant engineers would still argue over how it happened, that a Plant could die and yet not destroy everything in its wake.

But not one of them would come close to the truth.

The light vanished and night took over once more.

__

End part eighteen


	19. 

__

Part nineteen

Two levels below the Plant chamber, the Master ran, cursing his lack of fortitude in running from the strange blonde man, for believing that vision, that trick of the light, could possibly be real. Stupid, a vampire his age running from such things.

Still, he had felt the death throes of the Plant, the scream as she finally threw herself from this plane to the next, so perhaps it was for the best. There were other towns out there to subdue, other cities he could hunt in. It wouldn't be difficult to rebuild his army in the slightest.

A tingle at the edge of his predatory senses brought him up short. He tilted his head, using his preternaturally given abilities to track the source of the disturbance, not quite believing what they were telling him.

The Master drew himself up to his full height and turned around. "Show yourself, fledgling."

He heard the drag of steel before he saw the figure emerge from the dark, a tall, hulking man, hat settled low along his brow, casting long shadows under his eyes. In his hand, he carried an impressive-looking sword, what little light there was glinting off the highly polished metal. The stranger raised his head and smiled ferally. "I'm no fledgling."

The Master frowned. "You're not one of mine."

"One of mine?" the stranger chuckled. "Just who do you think you are?"

The Master's lip curled up into a sneer. "I am Master of this town, leader of fifty strong, sire of-"

"Y'know what?" the stranger interrupted. "I decided I really don't care."

The Master growled and attacked.

But honestly, he never really stood a chance.

As the headless body hit the ground, bursting into a cloud of ash, Liam shook his head.

"Children just don't respect the old ways anymore."

***  


__

Vash watched as Rem organized her plant clippings, catalogued for comparison day by day, long fingers carefully placing each leaf in the proper slide. She had, he noticed, large hands for a woman. Compared to Mary's, they were almost masculine in appearance, weathered by work in the rec room and covered in calluses from constant activity. One would almost expect them to be clumsy or harsh, but she treated each of her samples as if they were delicate crystal and gave the boys and her friends only the lightest of soft touches.

__

Vash loved those hands, loved everything about her. He understood that she wasn't his mother, that he had no mother, but if he did, he hoped she'd be a lot like Rem.

__

She noticed his eyes on her, peeking up over the desk. She smiled, and waggled her fingers at him in greeting. "Hey there."

__

He smiled shyly. "Hi."

__

"How long have you been standing there?"

__

He shrugged. "Dunno. A while. Is that okay?"

__

Her smile deepened, eyes twinkling. "Absolutely."

__

The brief swoosh of a door opening came from behind him, causing Rem to look up, her smile shifting subtly. He couldn't explain it, the way that her smile could portray different emotions without really changing at all. He guessed it was just a grown-up thing.

__

Still, she seemed pretty happy to see the man who stepped up behind him. "Hey, Angel."

__

The dark-haired man smiled back. "Hello." He looked down at the little boy between them. "Hey, kiddo, what's up?"

__

Vash bit his lip. "Just watchin'."

__

Angel glanced back at Rem and winked. "Well, I can see why."

__

Vash frowned, not quite understanding, but Rem just shook her head and laughed. "Mister Angel, you do know how to flatter a girl."

__

"One of my talents," he quipped, laying a hand over hers. For the briefest of moments, their fingers intertwined, before he pulled away and hunkered down next to Vash. "So, what do you say to some donuts?"

__

"Now, that's just going to ruin his appetite before dinner."

__

"Oh come on, someone's gotta spoil the twins around here…_"_

The memory slipped away into Vash's subconscious as he woke up, stiff and sore in nearly every joint.

He looked at his surroundings, failing to recognize them. A hotel room of some sort, he supposed, simple, but clean and warm. He sat up slowly, back cracking as he moved, although it appeared he wasn't much the worse for wear beyond that. No new scars for him this time.

Yawning and stretching out his neck, he finally noticed he had company. "Uh, hey."

Liam smiled at him from his chair in the corner. "Hey."

Vash frowned. "Where am I?"

"New Hope, about thirty iles from Salem Town."

The outlaw scratched the back of his head, mildly befuddled. "I don't remember coming here."

"I'm not surprised," Liam smirked. "You've been asleep for two days."

Vash raised his eyebrow at that. He searched his memory for the events leading up to his blackout, but really only remembered discovering the ship. Afterwards, things grew too blurred for him to sort out any linear sequence.

Something important nagged at him. "What about the Plant?"

The other man's face softened and Vash knew the answer before he even said anything. "She died. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He rubbed a knuckle over his eyebrow. "I – I don't think there was anything to prevent that. She was dying before we got there."

"I know."

Vash tilted his head to the side. "You really do, don't you?"

Liam just smiled enigmatically.

A flash of a barely recalled dream flittered through his head and Vash stared at Liam. "I know you." It wasn't a question and Liam didn't treat it as such.

"But you can't remember."

"I should, though, I…" Vash trailed off and sighed in frustration. "So much is so clear but other things I have to struggle for. I'm sorry I can't explain this to you."

"I wouldn't worry about it. It'll come back when you need it to." Liam rose out of his chair, placing it back against the wall. "Got any travel plans yet?"

Vash blinked at the change in subject but recovered quickly. "Not sure. I'll probably keep heading east."

"Too bad. Lex and I are going west or I'd offer you a ride. Guess you'll have to hitch along with those insurance girls then."

Vash's eyes widened. "They're still here?"

"Sure. That short one, Meryl, she's been checking up on you like clockwork every hour. You're surprised?"

"Yeah," Vash admitted. "A little."

"Don't be. Hard to find friends like that nowadays." Liam ambled to the threshold, re-wrapping his face before he stepped out. "Well, I've got to get going before Lex leaves without me. Try not to get arrested again anytime soon, okay?"

Vash smiled. "Will do. Good luck."

"Same to you."

And Liam was gone.

__

End part nineteen


	20. 

__

Epilogue

Three days after Salem's Plant self-destructed, Meryl prepared their newly acquired car for departure from New Hope. Her eyes had mostly recovered from the blinding in the ship but were still sensitive to bright light. She'd snagged Vash's glasses to wear for the meantime, rationalizing that since he dragged her down there in the first place, he at least owed her some sort of reparation, even if he wasn't aware of it.

Plus, okay, she had to admit, they were pretty cool looking.

Speak of the devil, Vash finally stumbled outside, appearing much back to his normal, annoying self. Millie walked more sedately behind him, carrying his duffel.

"Millie, I'm fine, really."

"I'm sure you're much better, Mister Vash, but we don't want you over-stressing yourself. I can carry your bag just fine."

"But it's embarrassing," the outlaw whined. "How can I maintain my studly reputation if girls keep carrying all my stuff for me?"

Meryl raised an eyebrow. "What studly reputation?"

Vash turned to retort but instead stumbled to a halt. "Those are my glasses."

Meryl smirked. "Wrong. Mine now."

"But *I* paid for them."

"And *you* owe me for the damage to my retinas. So, tough luck broom-boy."

He made a perfunctory attempt to snatch them off her face but she ducked underneath his hand, tripping him with a well-timed foot before jumping into the driver's seat. Millie paused to shake her head at the outlaw. "Really, Mister Vash, you shouldn't annoy Meryl when you're already injured or you'll never get better."

The response from Vash was an unintelligible grumble.

By late afternoon, they'd been on the road for some hours, Meryl refusing to relinquish the wheel. Millie dozed in the back, snoring lightly every couple of minutes. Vash sat in the passenger seat, chin cupped in his hand, eyes focused on the horizon outside his window.

"Hey, Meryl?"

For a moment, she thought she was hearing things, his voice was so soft. But then he repeated himself and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, Vash?"

"Why did you come back?" Serious tone, almost amazed at the idea.

"I'll always come back," she answered truthfully and at his faintly startled expression, added, "It's my job, you know."

A trace of a smile appeared and he settled back into his seat, gaze once more drifting out to the desert. She sighed a little at his relief, but couldn't bring herself to mind too much.

Because, really, who needed the whole truth anyway?

***  


Alexis drove. Liam sat in the seat beside her. The silence was comfortable, one born of long years working together and caring for one another.

Alexis was the first to break it. "Was that *really* Vash the Stampede?"

"The one and only," Liam answered.

"He's not human."

"What do you mean?"

The Slayer sighed. "Come on, Liam, don't play dumb. What is he?"

"Indescribable."

"That's not an answer."

"If someone asked me what you were, how do you think I'd answer?"

She gave in. "The same."

"Well, there you go."

Another beat of silence before Alexis said, "We're going to see him again."

"Probably. These things tend to move in threes."

"Threes?"

Liam smiled. "Story for another time."

"Oh." She grinned. "I kicked his ass, y'know."

Her Watcher groaned. "So you've said. Many times."

"Yep. Kicked his butt real good. Does that make me the baddest-ass Slayer that ever lived?"

"No."

"Oh, come on. Who else beat up a world-wide legend?"

"Tell you what. Defeat a hell-god and I'll think about revising your standing."

"What's a hell-god?"

"Long story."

And so they continued on into the night.

FIN

*****  


Special thanks to Jaina, for being such a super groovy beta, Wraith for rightly pointing out that wood would be pretty darn valuable in the desert (thus inspiring holy water arrows), and everyone else who's written reviews for this monster.

End notes: Well, it's done. Finally. It's taken me more than a year to finish it. Yeah, a friggin' *year.* And it's by far the longest story I've ever completed. I'm sort of in awe. Or maybe that's shellshock, I'm not sure. What's worse, it's not over yet. A prequel's been rattling around in my brain for a while and I'm finally starting to hammer out a rough draft for it. I can't tell you much yet. Rem's heavily involved, as is a demon. And, yeah, it'll explain just how Liam didn't get himself blown to kingdom come with the rest of the Seeds crew. I hope. Don't hold your breath though – it'll be some time before it's fit to see print.

Right now, though, I need some rest. Catch y'all later.

-Irena


End file.
